#i don't think the group ever talked to her / found this out but there were hints fraldarius was in love w blaiddyd
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
Do you have like, some nice words?
Like I’m just so tired of how constant tme/tma speak is on my dash. Posts about how transfems should leave friend groups of “tmes” because they will inevitably be bigots
Why are half the popular transfems on this site horribly transphobic in their own right the moment a transmasc dares exist in their vicinity
Sorry I’m basically just venting in your inbox, thank you for being a breath of fresh air
i'm sorry you're dealing with this. it's natural to be worn down by this behavior, it's literal transphobia and intersexism and people just don't seem to care.
the tme/tma (transmisogyny exempt/transmisogyny affected) binary doesn't work. the issue is that in real life, most queerphobes you come across are assuming you are a trans woman. the average person associates the concept of transness with transfemininity on average, unless they personally know some transmascs or trans men, or are one. it's very rare to find a stranger who gets it. every time i come out to a stranger, they immediately switch to she/her pronouns, call me ma'am/miss/girl/etc., and ask what my "real" name is. it's really weird
transmasculine invisibility is a genuine issue offline. certain pockets of the internet are obsessed with hating trans men but that doesn't mean that the vast majority of people in the offline world know a damn thing about any of this. i do not ever have anyone understand that i mean i'm transmasculine when i say im trans. as i'm transmasc and transfem i don't really challenge it, but it sucks that people have one assumption and one only.
it happens with other queers. i moved in with a bunch of perisex trans femmes and was dating one for a while and flirting with a few others. my other roommate was a perisex cis gay man. i was the only intersex person who was there at the time, and i think a very small handful of others were around regularly, so there was a high chance that people should've been pretty informed about the existence of intersex identities. i know some people who came around pretty often were intersex, at least from my memory
the second people found out about my physical anatomy, they switched how they treated me. everyone thought i had a penis for some reason? and were made wildly uncomfortable upon finding out about it. when i revealed that i'm intersex & genderqueer, and that i'm bigender: a trans man, and a trans woman all hell broke loose suddenly nobody knew what to think or feel or anything.
people honest to god just defaulted to misgendering me.
and treating me like i was stupid as fuck.
this was the hardest part. i was being treated like i was dumb as HELL and it frustrated me to no end.
my emotions were "too much". i kept getting told i was too needy or whiny or possessive or that i needed too much of sometimes time or that i was touching the wrong things around the house. i kept being criticized for moving objects that impacted an environment i was allowed to work at. i was criticized for organizing a bookshelf i was asked to organize. i was ridiculed and insulted. my roommate and a girl who was flirting with me questioned my dissociative identity disorder, which i have plenty of medical records spanning back to 2017 from various doctors in various states and hospitals showing my diagnostic history with dissociation and dissociative disorders, and he also questioned my schizophrenia when i have records dating back to 2015 showing my history with severe psychotic episodes and the development of schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type
i was no longer the arbiter of my own lived experience because everyone found out i didn't have a penis. i'm a vagina haver so i'm stupid. i'm dumb. i'm a cis woman. i'm faking. i'm not actually a man. well i am a man. i'm evil.
i'm breaking this silence on this garbage. it's time stop treating trans men and mascs this way. we're real people. we have real experiences. we are also being talked over. it really is possible to speak over us. it's happening right now. it doesn't need to. trans men talking about how we don't need to be seen this way isn't hurting trans women. we're being misgendered. we're being hurt by transandrophobic and misogynstic behavior. one does not need to hurt trans men in order to heal from one's own trauma with manhood. it won't help. it doesn't do anything
this is such a goddamn long ask but i wanted to thank you for this because your honesty and bluntness is what's needed right now. thank you to every trans man and transmasc speaking up about this right now. please feel free to send your own experiences with this because it's over. i'm not humoring it. i'm going to keep talking about it until people calm down and understand that conversations have multiple participants
i now more than ever want to actually focus on uplifting transmasculinity and trans men. i have been forcing myself to try to focus on a broader range of topics to avoid backlash but let's not start 2025 thinking we have to do this anymore. we literally don't. it's over. trans women are allowed to talk about the struggles we face. always and forever. but a trans man talking about their own experience is not an attack on you. and sometimes a trans man will give you criticism. and sometimes... you have to take it.
sometimes you have to take a trans man's criticism.
you really, really do.
and it's not the end of the world.
if a trans man tells you you're talking over them, you really should actually stop and step backwards and reassess what you said to them. you may have done it on accident. actually listen before you keep talking. if a trans man tells you they have a health condition, listen. don't participate in this behavior. there's literally no reason to think that trans men and mascs are too stupid to articulate our own experiences. it's ridiculous. that's how society treats women- you don't want to be treated that way! please don't do it to other people, especially people you view as women...
anyway i hope that this helps in any way. i'm just tired of this shit. i'm happy to start 2025 by completely and totally breaking the silence on transmasculine and trans male erasure. join me. we're not doing this shit anymore. we're starting this year off being more compassionate. we're starting off this year accepting that manhood isn't what has traumatized any of us, it's toxic masculinity, it's patriarchy, it's specific men. let's ditch this shit
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐰𝐞𝐩𝐭 / drabble ₊
bones never need be cast to tell stories. in its living, that shield walked the earth as one of nameless thousands, whose dragonhood we may never know. in death, that name became obsolete, and its corpse the osseous structure of containment: for blood and glory, and many such things besides. history tells its tales in loops that are not quite loops, echoes that repeat with a different face, and in itself manifests between the cracks that form between memory, just as root and plant finds sunlight between the tines of a ribcage.
this is only one of such histories.
an oath to a master who did not hear:
the soldier wipes her spear on the wet leather of a dead man, and in the miserable muck of bog and rainwater ponders grimly the last of her strength. she has forgotten how she had come here and from where the fire in her breast had come ; she is certain it is the shield's doing, as certain as she is that maurice had not vanished as by accident as nemesis would have it seem. some of the others turn their eye from the abberations of their own selves ; and they are wiser for it, for in this hour it is only knowledge that deepens suffering when they are otherwise suffering all the same.
is there glory in dying knowing you are as wretched as you feared?
her mother would have said yes. yet she wishes now that these relics would take first the living mind before the body, so that if they had to suffer corruption for victory, they would at least do so with spirits unbound.
in this age, who can save them? who can save her, when nothing waited for them but dissolution?
in the end, there are those who would never be willing to turn. some, who had loved and hated their lord, who would let their pride become them before submission. some, who had begun to peer into the truth and could not stomach the resolve of the dead. some, who in their long night grew enfeebled, who had been stolen from in strength and twice over in spirit, in whose eyes the soldier understood the simple naivete of the mantra that said the strong would never be humbled.
she had grown, in the dark, to cherish one of these latter men, whose hands were so wetted in blood that the people called him saint for it. she had watched, in the dark, his flame dim and dim and somewhere along the way turn black ; the numbness of his heart and body made a far, far better shield than armor plate and leather strap, than one more person who would be willing to die in his name. and in that darkness she knew she was anathema to all their suffering and everything they had gained, and thus her shield could never be called love.
she would, instead, take rein for him and call down the white lance for him, renouncing her fealty for a belief in one who could not be belived in. this she knew——the helmed knight, behind his mildness, was mad. and yet in that madness was the sanctuary she had been searching for: an alternative to her mother's noble creeds and a fitting reprieve from a reality unfounded and too terrible to be beheld. to trust blindly that, in her last days, she could pretend to still be human.
. . .
so that, in ages forward, when they picked up the dead aegis from where the root and fern had taken shape between the crevices of her cadaver, there would be no shadow of her to be burned by the sunlight which may now shine. so that when they called it the steadfast, they might do so with a real reverence for a story that was never true. they would speak of a soldier whose heart had been strong enough to safeguard her lord, and not of one whose heart had learned, out of love, to guard itself——not in duty to, but in spite of.
for every soldier throughout time would find their rest someplace. and when the peek of twilight began to color from just beyond the sightlines, it was not abnormal to begin to wonder just what kind of haven that someplace may be.
the AEGIS SHIELD has awakened.
#﹙ ˙ ˖ × ﹚ + ╱ THE HOUR AT WHICH THE WILDERNESS GLEAMS BLUE .#wc 715#hands up if u were here for lock&key and part of harmony route... lol#this drabble is a continuation / love letter to some of the concepts i had running in the bg there#i don't think the group ever talked to her / found this out but there were hints fraldarius was in love w blaiddyd#fun fact fraldarius was one of the elites that were impossible to convince to defect from nemesis#i dont exactly remember who the others unconviceables were anymore... p sure one of them was blaiddyd#blows a kiss to our old old old maribelle somewhere out there who got his warhorse off him for trying tho
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
this time of year
pairing: friend!steve rogers x female reader
summary: you've kept your feelings for your friend, steve rogers, quiet for years—but when you're at the holiday market with your whole group of friends, some things come to light, and you don't think you can keep pretending you don't desperately want him anymore.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), fluff, light angst, smut, oral sex (m and f receiving), piv sex, protection, fingering (f receiving), nipple play, multiple orgasms, kissing, making out, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (sunshine), aftercare, happily ever after—this is probably the most vanilla sex i've written in a while but it's still porn with feelings.
word count: 11.9k
a/n: my first entry for @the-slumberparty's december daze challenge, and it's technically still december 1 where i live (just barely)!!! i used the prompt "Can I put my cold hands up your sweater for warmth?" and had an idea i really liked and just ran with it! i promise most of my december fics won't be 10k+ words—mainly because i don't think i'd survive it 😅 but i hope y'all enjoy this soft and sweet and smutty start to december!! ♡
december daze challenge masterlist
Teasing tingles of chill danced across your skin as the crisp December wind brushed against your cheeks, making you huddle deeper into the warmth of your winter coat. You pushed your hands deeper into your pockets, but it didn’t do much. You’d forgotten your mittens, and your fingers felt nearly frozen.
It didn’t help that you and your friends had been meandering through one of the city’s holiday market for more than a few hours, the cold of the evening sinking deep into your bones. Unfortunately, there were only so many cups of hot chocolate one person could consume before they made themselves sick, and you’d reached that limit.
Still, you were having fun—too much fun to complain about the cold or to try to beg off early. That was why you smiled as you watched your best friend, Yelena Belova, duck into one of the market stalls, her green eyes going wide as they raked over the vendor’s display of knives.
You trailed a little slowly behind the rest of your friends—Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers—beneath the pop-up tent, distracted by the chill in your fingers as you rubbed them against your body through the material of your coat, trying to get them warm.
The wintry wind cut through the market again and, despite the trembling of your body, you smiled as you breathed in the scent of it. Beneath the pine smell from the evergreen trees being sold at the big tent near the entrance and the swirling richness of buttery baked goods, there was a fresh scent that made you turn your face upward.
Gray clouds were rolling in overhead, blotting out the deep navy of the evening sky, and you knew, deep in your bones, that it was going to snow. A smile curled the edges of your lips and you let your eyes fall closed as you breathed in that fresh scent of oncoming snow.
You loved this time of year because you loved the snow.
Everything about it conjured up memories of sitting by a crackling fire, wrapped in a cozy blanket, watching the beautiful flakes fall from the sky and dust everything in a perfect wintry cloak. You could spend hours sitting by a window, watching the snow come down, and you were suddenly looking forward to doing just that once you got home that evening.
When you finally opened your eyes and turned away from the sky, you found Steve lingering in the entrance of the tent where your friends were browsing, an intensity in his gaze as he looked at you. He didn’t look away when you caught him staring, simply held your gaze, letting you see the heat swirling in the depths of his bright blue eyes.
That heat had begun appearing in Steve’s eyes more and more when he looked at you, and you knew it had started after a certain night at the bar your friends frequented a few weeks prior. But you’d been determinedly ignoring that look in Steve’s eyes ever since that night—just like you’d been ignoring what exactly had happened between the two of you.
As fast as the memory of that night sprang to mind, you shoved it aside, reminding yourself that there was no use in dredging it up. What you and Steve had done that night had the potential to ruin all of your relationships, and no matter how much you might’ve wanted reenact the night at the bar, your friend group was too important to you to risk it.
Even after years of knowing them, you still felt like your addition to the group was precarious because you’d joined so much later. Steve, Bucky, Nat and Yelena had all known each other since they were teenagers, and you’d only met them in your early twenties. You’d sat near Yelena at your first job after college, and it had been best friends at first sight—or, at first snarky comment, anyway.
She’d adopted you as her best friend and introduced you to the others since you were new to the city and didn’t know anyone. You’d liked Steve from the moment you met him, but you’d kept a tight lid on your crush since you were more concerned about fitting into the group as seamlessly as possible, and you figured following your feelings would unnecessarily rock the boat.
Still, despite your intention of taking your crush on Steve to your grave, you couldn’t ignore the way he’d grown into himself as you all had gotten older.
Gone was the boy-next-door blond hair and clean-shaven face of the man you’d first met. Steve’s hair had darkened and he’d recently let it grow long enough that it was beginning to curl at the nape of his neck. He’d also grown out his beard, keeping it thick but neatly trimmed.
Steve had also, somewhere along the way, learned how to dress his tall form—and do it well.
That night at the holiday market, he’d worn light gray slacks, a dark charcoal sweater that you desperately wanted to rub your cheek against to see if it was as soft as it looked, and a black wool overcoat. It was an outfit that had you nearly drooling when you’d met up with your friends, unable to tear your eyes away from how Steve’s broad shoulders and trim waist filled out the clothes.
Despite the chill of the evening, Steve hadn’t seemed the least bit cold, and you’d caught yourself thinking more than once how warm it would feel to be wrapped up in his strong arms. Your fingers would never have gotten so miserably frozen if you’d snuck them beneath Steve’s coat or in his pockets…
With a start, you realized you’d been staring back at Steve for a long, lingering moment, and heat bloomed in your cheeks. You didn’t want him to get the wrong idea—though, at that moment, you were struggling to figure out what exactly the wrong idea was—so you ducked your head and pretended like you were bundling deeper into your coat as you made to move past him into the tent.
“Are you alright, sunshine?” Steve asked as you passed him, his hand landing gently on your arm. Even through your coat, you could feel the warmth of his touch; it made you pause and glance up at him.
You realized your mistake immediately. You were too close to Steve—far too close. So close you could smell the rich, masculine scent of his cologne and feel the heat radiating off his body. It made you want to bury your face in his neck and inhale deeply, to wrap yourself up in his warmth until your bones didn’t even remember what the cold felt like.
“I-I’m ok,” you said in a shaky voice, more rattled by Steve’s closeness than the December wind cutting through the city, and you dropped your gaze to the gold pendant around his neck.
It glinted in the soft light of the market stall, and you remembered it had been a gift from his Irish Catholic mother. You used the memory of Steve telling you about the pendant to ground yourself and your voice came out stronger.
“Just cold.”
“D’you want some more hot chocolate?” Steve asked, and there was a hopeful note in his tone, like he was offering to get it for you, but you were quick to shake your head.
“Any more and I think my body will be more hot chocolate than water,” you joked, trying to ignore the emotions swirling in your chest like snowflakes on a wintry gale.
When Steve chuckled, you couldn’t help but look back up at him, finding his blue eyes sparkling as he gazed down at you, affection clear in the lines of his face.
Slowly, his smile eased into something else—something heavier, an expression that was almost yearning. It made the fluttering flakes in your chest swirl more frenziedly while a warmth bloomed somewhere lower, throbbing more to life the longer Steve looked at you with those darkened blue eyes. His expression spoke of things you’d never dare give voice to.
For another long moment, you and Steve just stared at each other, standing too close just inside the canopy of the vendor at the holiday market. A tension you refused to acknowledge crackled in the air around you.
Of their own volition, your eyes dropped to Steve’s mouth, his lower lip looking so soft and pink amid the dark brown of his beard. For what felt like the millionth time in the last few weeks, ever since that night at the bar, you imagined kissing him—how soft his mouth would be, how warm and inviting, and the feel of his rough beard rasping over your cheeks.
“Hey Steve, c’mere!”
Natasha’s call finally broke the spell that had fallen over you and Steve, and you jumped back, only in that moment realizing how close you’d been. Close enough that when you ducked your head and turned away from him, making your way over to Yelena and Bucky, that you missed Steve’s warmth almost immediately.
You let out a shaky breath, trying to ease the tension and whirling emotions in your chest, and slid between your friends, who were still looking at the knives on sale. Looping one arm through Yelena’s, you rested your head against Bucky’s shoulder, taking comfort in your friends’ warmth, even if it wasn’t as soothing as Steve’s had been.
“Both of you already have too many knives,” you said by way of a greeting. Your comment made both of them snort derisively, which made you smirk since it had been your intention to get a reaction out of them.
“There’s no such thing,” Yelena scoffed, tearing her eyes away from a double-edged dagger with an engraved handle to glance sideways at you. Her gaze met yours and then slid over your shoulder.
You followed it to where Natasha and Steve’s heads were ducked together. They were standing near a display of jewelry and you figured Nat was helping Steve pick out a Christmas present for someone, though you couldn’t think of who. You frowned.
“When are you going to put him out of his misery?”
Bucky’s gruff question drew you out of your thoughts of trying to remember someone in Steve’s life who he might be buying jewelry for, and you looked at your friend. Without even seeing your reflection, you knew confusion was written plainly across your face.
“What?” you asked, a little sharper than you’d intended, but you didn’t appreciate the implication that you were making Steve miserable.
Bucky cut his eyes to you, then slid them to Yelena, giving your best friend a pointed look. You spun your head around to your other side in time to watch Yelena’s mouth flatten into a reproachful frown.
Suddenly, you got the distinct impression that your friends were having an argument about you, though you couldn’t even begin to wonder what it could be about, except that it had something to do with Steve.
It took a moment of silent arguing before Yelena and Bucky seemed to come to an agreement. Yelena looked at you, a gentle expression on her face that made your stomach drop with anxiety—which only worsened when she put her free hand on your arm that was still looped through hers.
However, before she could voice whatever bad news she clearly had to tell you, Bucky cut in.
“You know no one would be upset if you and Steve dated, right?” he asked bluntly, his eyes intense and searching when you turned to look at him. “We all know you like each other.”
If you’d been drinking hot chocolate at that moment, you would’ve spit it out all over Bucky and the display of pretty decorative knives.
Thankfully, you weren’t. But you still managed to sputter and open your mouth repeatedly while you searched for the words to address the preposterousness of Bucky’s statement.
“I do not—”
Whatever weak protest you were going to utter was cut short when Yelena blurted, “We know you kissed.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, the snowflakes that had been fluttering in your chest when you’d been standing with Steve sharpened into icy daggers of unease. You whirled on your best friend. “Pardon?”
“I saw you guys at the bar that night—I went back to get my scarf…” Yelena explained quickly, having the good grace to look apologetic, both for what she’d seen and for bringing it up. “I know you’ve liked Steve for ages, even if you haven’t said anything,” she rushed on, as if she thought if she spoke fast enough, it would make it easier to hear. “I was so excited it was finally happening that I blurted it out to Nat and she told Bucky—we were just so happy for you both.”
You floundered again, your mouth opening and closing as you processed your best friend’s words. It was almost too much to take in. Not only did everyone know what had happened between you and Steve that night at the bar, but it hadn’t changed anything. You’d told yourself for years that nothing could happen between you and Steve because it would throw off the whole balance of the group, but something had happened and it hadn’t done anything.
“I—”
Again, you were cut off, though it was seemingly Bucky’s turn, and your head swiveled back to him on your other side, feeling a bit like a broken bobblehead.
“He’s liked you too, for what it’s worth,” Bucky said. Your face must’ve conveyed disbelief because he went on. “He’s been talking about you since Yelena first introduced you to everyone, but he didn’t know how you felt,” he said, cutting his eyes to Yelena with the barest hint of a glare, “and didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Hearing that Steve liked you was officially too much for you to bear. The dawning realization that you could’ve been with Steve without risking your friendships with Yelena, Bucky and Nat was like a yawning, desolate chasm waiting to swallow you whole. You’d lost so much time because you were so afraid of losing them all, and it hurt—it hurt enough that it took you a moment to realize Yelena was talking again.
“We thought someone had finally made a move, but then you guys were pretending like nothing happened,” she was saying, and you turned back to her, your mind so overwhelmed that you no longer felt cold, only numb. “None of us wanted to bring it up because, y’know, I wasn’t supposed to have seen it.” She shot you an apologetic grimace before plowing on, her expression turning gentle again. “You know we’d never stop being your friends, even if something happened with you and Steve, right?”
Your heart was racing, the fear of change quickly eclipsing the fear of losing any more time with Steve. You’d been friends with Yelena, Bucky, Nat and Steve for so long that you couldn’t even imagine what it would be like if the two of you started dating—let alone what might happen if you broke up. Shaking your head, you refused to acknowledge Yelena’s assurance. Even if they’d still be friends with you, nothing would be the same.
“Nothing happened,” you said vehemently, even as you choked on the words, the lie tasting like ash on your tongue. But you couldn’t seem to stop. “We were drunk, it meant nothing.”
But then Bucky—blunt, too-perceptive Bucky—broke into your thoughts and pulled you up short with another simple question.
“Are you sure about that?” he asked, his tone not unkind.
You opened your mouth to snap a quick answer, but the ‘yes’ died in your throat. Because of course something had happened, and of course it meant everything.
For the first time in weeks, you gave yourself permission to remember that night.
You’d tried to forget it—forget the softness of Steve’s lips on yours, forget the heat of his tongue as it slipped into your mouth, forget the pleasant scrape of his beard against your skin and the gentle way he’d held your face as he deepened the kiss.
Your first kiss with Steve Rogers had been glorious and messy and too short and too perfect—and it had meant everything to you.
But then you remembered what had happened after, the way you’d pulled away, even though you’d been the one to initiate the kiss in the first place, and panicked as soon as your mind had caught up with what you’d done.
The rest of the memory was a blur, the anxiety of the moment softening the edges, but you distinctly remembered extricating yourself from Steve—which had felt a little like cutting off a limb—before telling him it was a mistake and it couldn’t happen again.
Back at the market, you buried your face in your hands, and almost sobbed at the memory. “I’ve already ruined things,” you mumbled miserably into your frozen fingers, squeezing your eyes shut to keep the tears at bay.
Bucky made a humming noise, as if he was considering your words. “Whatever happened between you two, it hasn’t changed Steve’s feelings for you,” he said, squeezing your wrist gently until you looked at him. He stared at you for a long moment, making sure you heard him. “So my question stands: When are you going to put him—and yourself—out of this misery?”
Your friends let you sit with that question for a silent moment, then Yelena selected one of the knives, claiming it was an early Christmas present for herself and made her way over to the checkout.
Steve was also apparently buying something, accepting a small wrapped package from the cashier that he slipped into his pocket. You were too overwhelmed by your thoughts to be curious about it anymore though.
You stood with Bucky near the entrance to the tent, waiting for your friends to finish their transactions while your mind swirled. You were grateful to your friend for leaving you alone with your thoughts, though you knew it was only because Bucky was confident he’d made his point.
And he had. Oh how he had.
Your mind and heart were a mess. You’d spent so many years telling yourself that you could never let anyone catch on about your feelings for Steve, because if they did, it would lead to the end of the friend group. But they’d all known for weeks, and nothing had changed.
Well, nothing except apparently Bucky and Yelena had taken it upon themselves to play matchmaker. And you wouldn’t have been surprised if Natasha had been in on the ploy as well, distracting Steve purposefully so Yelena and Bucky could ambush you.
Still, you couldn’t fully silence the tiny voice of fear deep in your heart that insisted that if you and Steve got together, and things ended badly, you’d lose all your friends.
The rest of the group had known each other for so long and it had been more than a little daunting to figure out where you fit. Adding a romantic relationship into the mix seemed like a recipe for disaster—and if it ended so badly that everyone was forced to choose sides, you couldn’t imagine them choosing yours when they’d known Steve so much longer.
But as you watched Yelena finish paying for the knife, her words about always being your friend came back to you. She was your best friend—and you were hers. As if proving the point, she caught your eye and smiled impishly as she caught up with you, linking her arm through yours and tugging you back out into the market.
In that moment, something settled in you. Without fully realizing it, you’d always been a little insecure in your group of friends, always worried they would kick you out at the smallest infraction. But Yelena had said it plainly—they’d always be your friends, and you owed it to them to believe her, to trust her, because that was what friendship was.
That was what you had to do to have any kind of meaningful relationship.
As your group of friends wandered further down the row of stalls at the holiday market, you couldn’t help the way your eyes kept straying to Steve. Each time, you found him either looking at you already, or glancing your way within seconds, like he could feel your gaze.
When you looked at him, really looked at him, you noticed a little bit of hurt in his eyes. There was only a hint of it, like he was trying to hide it from you and everyone elese, but you could see it.
You wondered, briefly, how you’d missed it, but a part of you knew you’d been seeing it since that night at the bar. You’d just been ignoring it along with everything else swirling in his gaze.
“When are you going to put him out of his misery?”
You’d known you were making yourself miserable—of course you had. But the realization that you were making Steve miserable, even as he made a valiant effort to hide it, was what finally made your decision for you about what to do with everything Bucky and Yelena had told you.
No matter how scared you were that things might end badly, and you’d end up getting your heart broken and lose all your friends, you had to trust them when they said they’d always be there for you. You had to trust that Steve knew what he wanted—and that what he wanted was you.
The group came to another stop when Bucky spotted a specialty chocolate vendor and he ducked inside. Nat and Yelena followed him in—the latter giving you a meaningful look as you trailed behind before cutting her eyes to Steve. The message was clear and you nodded, giving her a playful shove that made your best friend cackle as she followed Bucky and Nat.
You stepped toward Steve where he hovered just outside the tent, and he shot you a knowing smile when he caught your eye.
“Still feeling like you’ve had enough chocolate?” he asked in a friendly tone, referencing your earlier joke. His beard twitched like he was trying to hold back a smile and it warmed your heart that he not only remembered the joke, but still found it funny.
The side of your mouth curved up in a lopsided grin, and you inched a tiny bit closer, just barely stepping into Steve’s personal space as you looked up at him.
“Yeah, I’ve had my fill,” you said, keeping your tone light. You took on a considering expression, tipping your head to the side and tapping a finger to your chin as if you were thinking. “For tonight, at least.”
Both of you laughed, but the December wind cut through the holiday market just then, and it reminded you of how cold your fingers were, especially out in the open. You quickly shoved your hand deep into the pocket of your coat, and Steve didn’t miss the movement, drifting even closer to you.
“Do you have any gloves, sunshine?” he asked in a low, rumbly voice that had warm tingles of delight dancing down your spine, all the way to your toes.
“No,” you said, shaking your head. Steve had moved close enough that you had to tip your head back to keep looking up at him, and you could feel the heat radiating off his larger body.
His blue eyes were sparkling in the warm, golden light of the market, and you could see the swirl of emotion in their depths that was only there when he looked at you. But there was a crease of concern between his brows, too, and you knew he was seconds away from offering to find you some gloves—or something else that would be chivalrous and perfectly friendly.
You realized, very suddenly, that if anything was going to happen between you and Steve, anything like what had happened at the bar, you needed to make the first move. Bucky had said Steve had been worried about making you uncomfortable before that night, and you were certain it had only worsened after the kiss you’d shared.
So, before he could say anything, you blurted the first thing that came to mind.
“Can I put my cold hands up your sweater for warmth?”
Steve’s brows lifted in surprise, and you had to bite your lip to keep yourself from trying to take the words back as soon as they’d slipped out of your mouth. And you were glad you did, because as the moment stretched on, and Steve realized you were serious, his brows lowered and his blue eyes darkened with interest.
“Ya sure about that, sunshine?” he asked, his voice low enough that you knew it was meant for only you. He ducked his head slightly, so he was nearly at your eye level, and held your gaze. “I wouldn’t want you doing anything you might regret.”
The words stung a little, but you knew you deserved them, especially after you’d told Steve that kissing him had been a mistake. So you held his gaze and stepped even closer to him, until there was barely any space left between your bodies.
“I’m sure,” you said firmly, letting Steve see the honesty in your open expression. “I know what I’m doing and I—this is what I want.” You were proud of yourself for only stumbling once, and held your breath as you waited for Steve’s response.
The corners of Steve’s mouth flickered in an eager grin, but he wiped the expression away, like he was worried that if he appeared too excited, he’d scare you away. You felt a pang of regret, and it doubled your determination to show Steve that you weren’t going to panic and run away again.
Pulling your hands from your pockets, you brushed your fingertips against Steve’s stomach in a silent reminder of your question.
“Can I?” you asked, your voice breathless with anticipation.
“Yeah,” he rasped, his eyes molten with heat as he stared down at you. “Go ‘head, sunshine.”
You were cold enough that you didn’t waste any more time, slipping your fingers beneath the hem of Steve’s soft sweater and pressing your frigid fingertips to the warm, smooth skin you found.
“Fuck, your fingers are freezing,” Steve rumbled, the muscles of his abs contracting beneath your touch like they were trying flee. But before you could apologize and pull away, Steve’s hands flattened over yours outside his sweater, pressing your palms against the hard-packed plane of his abs. “Good thing ya got me to keep you warm, sunshine,” he teased, his voice so full of charm that you melted into him.
“Yeah, good thing,” you echoed in a whisper, the edges of your mouth curling up into a pleased smile. You shimmied closer to Steve, watching the way his blue eyes sparkled with affection as he held your gaze captive.
He wrapped you up against him, holding you in the loose cage of his warms while your fingertips stroked idly against his smooth skin. You wanted to let them wander further beneath his sweater and explore the wonders of Steve’s bare chest, but you managed to keep the urge in check since you were in public—though it was a near thing.
“You know what I like to do most in the winter?” you asked Steve, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over the two of you. The sounds of the market all around you were a distant soundtrack.
“What?” he asked indulgently, squeezing you slightly in his arms.
“Curl up in bed and snuggle on a snowy day,” you said with a sly smile. And then, as if a thought had just occurred to you, you tilted your head to the side. “Hey, is your bed comfy? Do you have a lot of nice warm blankets and good pillows?”
A grin pulled across Steve’s face even though he was fighting it, trying to look like he was taking your questions under serious consideration.
“Y’know, I think it’s very comfy,” he said, giving you a knowing look. He’d obviously picked up on the not-so-subtle cue that you might want him to take you back to his place, and you appreciated that he was sticking to the bit. “But it sounds like you’re an expert, so I think you should come over and be the judge of that.”
An answering grin curved your mouth and you murmured, “I’d like that.”
Then, before you could let your fear get the best of you again, you pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes, your lips brushing against Steve’s beard as you moved to whisper in his ear.
You shivered at the physical reminder of the coarse hair rasping deliciously against your cheeks when he’d kissed you and it took a moment to remember what you’d been about to say. When you did, you couldn’t hold in your smirk.
“Did I mention I do my best snuggling naked?”
“Sunshine.”
The nickname was uttered in a gruff, rumbling rasp, like the sound of a plow on snowy streets. It was so deep and delicious, your toes curled in delight and your mouth pulled into a full-blown grin.
You barely had time to pull away before Steve was wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and towing you in for a kiss.
Steve’s mouth was wonderfully soft and exquisitely warm and achingly familiar against yours. He wasted no time licking along the seam of your lips, seeking entrance that you happily gave him.
Your fingers curled around Steve’s sides beneath his sweater, digging greedily into the soft skin at his waist while you kissed him back feverishly, trying to close every gap between your bodies.
“Fuck, how does this feel so much better than I remember?” Steve growled against your lips, his hand on the back of your neck tilting your head just the way he wanted so he could lick even deeper into your mouth.
Your breathy, delirious laugh was swallowed by his all-consuming kiss, the sound turning into a helpless moan.
God, he was right, it did feel so much better than you remembered to have Steve’s mouth on yours, and you couldn’t fathom how you’d run away from him before because, in that moment, the last thing you wanted to do was stop. You wanted to kiss Steve for the rest of your life.
“I don’t know, but Steve, please, don’t stop,” you murmured when he finally let you up for air. You tried to catch your breath while he was busy pressing insatiable kisses to your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth, anywhere he could reach without straying too far from your lips.
Pulling your hands from beneath his sweater, your no longer freezing fingers threaded into the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, pulling him closer while at the same time pushing yourself up onto your tiptoes again. Your bodies slotted together even more perfectly, and you moaned softly into his mouth as you tugged him in for another kiss.
Steve kissed you harder, holding you tight to his chest like he was afraid that if he let go, you’d disappear on the wintry wind. In turn, you held him just as fiercely, your nails raking through the beard on the underside of his jaw and tugging lightly to bring him closer until he was rumbling a pleased sound deep in his chest.
“Get a room!”
The perfect bubble that had formed around and Steve abruptly popped, the sounds of the bustling holiday market rushing in along with the December chill and you pulled away, your first instinct to worry about what your friends would think. But then you caught the look on Steve’s face.
He was staring at you with such a blissed out expression, his blue eyes dark and hazy, a pleased smile on his kiss-swollen lips, that you couldn’t help but relax and melt back into him. You took your time to press a sweet kiss to his lips before turning to your friends.
Natasha, Yelena and Bucky all wore matching smug grins. Nat was even popping little chocolate candies into her mouth like she was enjoying the show.
“Oh no, please don’t stop on our account,” she called to you and Steve, gesturing with her hand for you both to continue. The whole group burst into raucous laughter.
Cracking up and shaking your head, you buried your face in Steve’s rumbling chest, feeling a little shy about being caught making out so heatedly by your friends. But you felt relief, too, that no one was upset—that all your friends were happy for you and Steve.
When you’d finally gotten ahold of yourself, you tipped your face up and caught Steve’s eye, giving him a sly smile that had his expression instantly darkening with a hunger that made you pulse with desire.
“So about that comfy bed of yours…” you murmured, just for him to hear. When he nodded once, quickly, to acknowledge he remembered it, you went on. “I’d love to see it if you’re ready to go?”
The implication of your question was clear and Steve clutched you tighter to his chest, capturing your lips for a brief, hot kiss that did more to warm you from the inside out than any of the hot chocolate you’d consumed that evening.
“Sunshine, I’ve been ready to take you home for years,” he rasped against your mouth, the honesty in his voice making you smile.
When Steve pulled away, he tugged you over to your group of friends and told them you were heading home—yes, together, he confirmed. All three of them murmured encouraging words in your ear as you hugged them goodbye, and you could tell by the pink tinging Steve’s cheeks that they were doing the same to him.
Once farewells were said, Steve snagged your hand and laced your fingers together. As you walked to the subway, he tucked your clasped hands into the pocket of his overcoat, and then your other into the crook of his elbow, where he covered it with his palm to keep you warm.
Steve held you tucked into his side the whole way back to his place while he made idle conversation, asking about the latest books you’d read and movies you’d watched. He only let go when it came time to pull out his keys and unlock his door.
There was a giddy, electric energy between the two of you as Steve helped you out of your coat and hung it up. Your gaze kept drifting back to him while you took off your boots and he hung up his overcoat. Once done, he stepped close, toeing out of his shoes next to where you’d dropped your boots.
“Do you want anything to drink?” Steve asked, his voice rough and a little uneven, like he was nervous. It made you smile, settling your own nerves to know he was right there with you.
You stepped further into Steve’s space, your fingers sneaking beneath the hem of his sweater and giggling when he sucked in a sharp breath. He’d made an excellent effort to keep your fingers warm on the way home, but the December cold had still snuck in.
It was a good thing Steve was there to warm you up again.
“I think I’d just like to see this comfy bed of yours,” you murmured, pushing up onto your tiptoes and kissing Steve.
The two of you lingered in the entryway of Steve’s apartment for long minutes, kissing and learning what made each other gasp and moan. His teeth nipped at your lower lip, sinking in hard enough to make you whimper before relenting and soothing the sting away with his tongue.
Meanwhile, you let your hands wander further beneath Steve’s sweater, finding a light trail of hair leading down to the waistband of his slacks. You raked your nails through it, and relished the pleased sound that rumbled in his chest.
Warm, wet desire was gathering between your thighs, and it wasn’t long before you squirmed impatiently against Steve, needing more.
By the time Steve broke the kiss and spun you around, his heavy hands dropping to your hips to guide you through his apartment, your panties were damp and you were aching for something only Steve could give you.
Both of you moved quickly as you let Steve lead you to his bedroom, pausing just inside the darkened room while he flicked on a light.
A soft, golden glow emanated from two lamps set on low wooden tables on either side of the massive bed. Curiously, your gaze roved over the room, taking in the earthy colors and tasteful design.
It seemed Steve hadn’t only gotten his wardrobe and appearance together—he’d also made his home a place that was warm and welcoming and entirely him.
The king-size bed was swathed in a thick, forest green comforter with dark charcoal sheets, a veritable pile of pillows at the head that looked far too enticing. The rest of the room was furnished with a dark wooden bookcase and dresser that matched the bed frame and side tables. There were even some vintage photographs of Brooklyn decorating the wall, along with some framed pictures on dresser.
Wandering over, you picked up one of the photographs. It was from the first autumn after you’d met Yelena and the others. The group had rented a car and gone to a farm upstate to go apple picking and enjoy all the other autumnal delights the state had to offer.
In the photo, you were tucked into Steve’s side on a bale of hay, ready for the hayride the group had decided to go on, with Yelena on your other side. There was a blanket draped over your laps, and Steve’s arm was wrapped around your shoulders. The three of you were beaming at the camera.
“Do you remember that trip?” Steve asked, sliding up behind you and wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. His chin rested on your shoulder while he peered at the photograph.
“Yeah,” you said, nodding. Then you winced as you remembered something about the trip. “Wasn’t this the time I fell asleep on your shoulder on the way home and drooled all over your jacket?”
Steve laughed huskily in your ear.
“It is,” he confirmed, brushing a kiss to your cheek before murmuring. “I didn’t wash it for a month.”
It was your turn to laugh, though the sound was more of a surprised exhalation as you twisted your upper body so you could see his face better.
“What?”
Steve grimaced, wrinkling his nose and scuffing a hand against the back of his neck sheepishly, like he regretted admitting that to you.
“It was more because it smelled like you than because of the, y’know, drool,” he explained, his tone a tiny bit defensive. But then he looked at you, finding your face still frozen in surprise and his expression softened. “I’ve liked you since I met you, sunshine.”
It wasn’t anything Bucky hadn’t already told you, but it still felt like an entirely new revelation coming straight from Steve, and all you could think to say was, “Oh.”
You turned back to the photo, still held in your hand, and all you could think about was the fact that you had the same one tacked up on the corkboard over your desk. You wondered if Steve liked it for the same reason you did—because it made the two of you look like a happy couple, even with Yelena sitting next to you.
“I liked you too,” you confessed in a small voice.
Steve was quiet for a moment, his hold on you loosening slightly as you stepped forward to put the photograph back on his dresser. But when that was done, he towed you back in until your back was pressed to his chest.
“Liked?” he asked, enunciating the ‘d’ at the end of the word.
Your mouth flickered in a smile and you turned around in his arms. Your hands smoothed over his broad shoulders while you leaned into him, your soft curves pressing into the hard planes of his body.
“I liked you then, and I like you now, Steve,” you said, holding your breath as you stared up at him. Even knowing he felt the same way about you, it was still scary to lay your heart bare for the first time, and you waited eagerly for his response.
An exhale gusted from Steve and you couldn’t help but note the relief in his expression, even as he grinned wide.
“That’s good to hear, sunshine, because I like you, too.”
“Good,” you said with a grin, dragging Steve down for a too-brief kiss. “Now, will you take me to bed already?”
Steve’s laughter was muffled as he kissed you again, guiding you around and walking you backward until the backs of your legs hit the bed. He didn’t break the kiss as he lowered you to the soft mattress and helped you slide up the bed until your shoulders settled into the pile of pillows at the head.
Your arms wrapped around Steve and you pulled him down on top of you while he braced himself so he didn’t crush you. One of his legs slid between your thighs and he lowered himself down on top of you until his bulge pressed into your stomach. Your belly swooped with excitement and your pulse thrummed with desire.
Hiking one of your legs up around his waist, you writhed beneath Steve, grinding your hot core against his thigh through your jeans.
You couldn’t seem to stop touching him, your hands sketching the exact measure of his body, and he seemed to be doing the same. Steve’s hands couldn’t stay still, sliding up and down your sides before finally pushing beneath your sweater.
His warm, calloused fingers stroked covetously over your skin, and you felt extra sensitive wherever he touched you, his every caress sending shivers of pleasure racing through your body.
“Steve,” you whined, wrenching your mouth from his to drag in a much-needed breath. Even still, you craved more and your body rocked up into his, grinding against his thigh while his bulge pressed insistently into your belly.
“You feel so good, sunshine,” he rasped as he kissed a trail along your jaw and down to your neck. The scratch of his beard against your skin had you shuddering beneath his big body. “Can I…?” he asked, his fingertips teasing along the edge of your bra beneath your sweater.
“Yes—please,” you gasped. Your own fingers curled into the soft fabric of Steve’s sweater between his shoulder blades and you tugged on it, trying to pull it over his head.
Steve chuckled into your neck before he sat up and yanked his sweater off for you, baring the broad expanse of his chest. You caught glimpses of soft brown hair dusted across his pecs and endless swaths of golden skin before he was helping you out of your sweater.
You grumbled disgruntledly when your view of Steve was cut off as he tugged your sweater over your head, then as he leaned close to unclasp your bra and toss it somewhere in the room. You only dragged your eyes away from Steve’s perfect chest when he made a low, almost anguished sound.
He looked a little dazed, his eyes staring down at your bare breasts. Your chest was heaving slightly, making them bounce gently, and Steve looked almost hypnotized by the sight.
Snorting to yourself, you curled your fingers around his firm biceps and tugged him back down on top of you, whimpering when your nipples brushed against the hair on his chest. They pebbled as pleasure spiked through your body, settling heavily between your thighs and making even more wetness soak into your panties.
The movement had broken Steve from his trance and he began kissing from your neck down your chest. The rasp of his beard over your clavicle sent a delicious shiver down your spine, making you keen and tremble beneath him.
“Fuck, you’re so soft,” he rumbled gruffly into your skin. He buried his face in the valley between your breasts, groping your supple flesh in his big hands while pressing teasing kisses and gentle bites to your skin. “You’re so perfect, sunshine.”
You whined a needy sound, reacting to his touch as much as his awe-filled words, and threaded your fingers through Steve’s soft hair. You held him tightly to your chest, wordlessly pleading for more, and he enthusiastically indulged the request.
Steve wrapped his lips around your nipple and sucked deeply, drawing so much of you into his hot mouth, it felt like he was doing his damndest to devour you. You were already so sensitive for him that it felt like there was a direct line connecting your sensitive peak to your clit, and you cried out in pleasure, your spine arching up off the bed and pushing your chest further in Steve’s face.
He grinned, doing a poor job of hiding his self-satisfied expression in your soft tits, but you didn’t begrudge him the smugness—not when he nibbled at your hardened nipple so good, it made your hips buck up from the bed. A whine slipped from your lips when you realized you no longer had his thigh to grind against, your legs kicking restlessly at the sheets.
After giving the same torturous treatment to your other nipple, wringing even more whimpering whines and desperate keening sounds from your mouth, Steve began kissing his way further down your body. He nipped playfully at your belly before lifting his head to catch your eye.
It took you a moment to blink them into focus enough to see him clearly.
“I’ve been dreaming about your taste for years, sunshine,” he rumbled, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your jeans and tugging just enough that you knew he was asking if he could take them off. “Please, can I…?”
You were already nodding, your fingers fumbling over the button of your jeans. Steve seemed just as eager as you, gently pushing your hand aside and taking over as he thumbed it through the hole in the denim and pulled your zipper down. Then he was peeling your jeans down over you hips and thighs, taking your panties off at the same time.
In only a few seconds, you were stripped bare for the first time in front of Steve Rogers, and if it wasn’t for the shuddered exhale that gusted past his lips and the sizable bulge twitching in the front of his slacks, it might’ve occurred to you to feel a little insecure.
But before those thoughts could even begin to creep in, Steve was dragging his hands up your thighs and spreading your legs with a reverent look on his face, giving an appreciative rumble deep in his chest as he raked his eyes up the naked length of your body.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, sunshine,” he rasped, pressing his face between your thighs and taking a deep breath.
Heat bloomed in your cheeks, but you didn’t have time to wonder at how you smelled because Steve was licking his tongue into the seam of your pussy, groaning like he’d eaten something delicious.
“Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined,” he growled before diving in deeper, burying his face against your cunt and eating you out like he was a dying man and you were his last meal.
In no time at all, he had you crying out, your hips bucking up off the bed as pleasure swirled through your body. It was all you could do to try to stop yourself from humping against his handsome face.
Steve’s thick biceps banded around your thighs and he held you spread open while he feasted on you, his eyes staring up past your quivering belly and heaving chest to watch your reactions. He sucked and nibbled and flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit, paying attention to what had you writhing and moaning your pleasure beneath him.
He licked into your pussy, fucking you with his tongue until you were squirming and panting on the bed, your thighs tensing and trembling with your building release.
Needing something to hold on to, you threaded your fingers into Steve’s hair, holding his head against your greedy pussy and rocking your hips into him. You moaned loudly, unabashedly, grinding against his mouth and beard as you neared the edge.
“Oh god, Steve, ‘m so close, please—please, don’t stop, ‘m gonna come,” you babbled, your spine arching up off the bed as you threw your head back into the pile of soft pillows. “Fuck, please, please, please!”
It was clear that Steve was a quick study when it came to your body, and he put what he’d learned to good use, sucking hard on your clit and flicking his tongue over it, steadily driving your pleasure higher until, finally, it crested. And then he pushed you right over the edge.
Your fingers fisted in Steve’s hair and you humped shamelessly against his face as you came with a cry of his name—“Steve!” Your body tightened, and then loosened as wave after wave of pleasure swept through your limbs, making you shiver intensely while Steve’s mouth worked you through your release.
When the pleasure began to ebb, you melted back into the soft blankets on Steve’s bed, a dazed smile curving your mouth. Steve eased you down with gentle sweeps of his tongue and soft kisses to your inner thighs, murmuring sweet words to you about how good you tasted on his tongue.
It wasn’t until you whimpered from overstimulation that Steve stopped. He pressed one last kiss to the top of your mound before pushing himself up. His happy grin when he saw the sated, content expression on your face made your heart skip a beat in your chest. He was just so damn handsome.
“Good?” Steve asked, though you knew from the self-satisfied look in his eye that he already knew the answer to his question.
Still, you nodded. “So good,” you purred, stretching and reaching for him. Your fingers curled into coarse hair on the underside of his jaw and you tugged him up your body for a kiss.
You could taste yourself on his lips, and his beard was so drenched in your juices, it made your own cheeks damp. A groan worked its way up your throat at the filthiness of the kiss, and you pulled Steve closer, letting him muffle the sound as his tongue slipped into your mouth.
Even though Steve had just made you come harder than anyone else in your entire life, renewed desire was beginning to bloom in your core, the heat of your arousal already building again. Distractedly, you recognized that you’d never felt the way you did for anyone but Steve—insatiable, unwilling to let the night end just yet.
When Steve’s hard bulge knocked against your hip, a devious smirk curled your lips and you wasted no time trailing your fingers down his bare, golden chest to grope his cock through his slacks. He was hard and heavy in your hand, and an excited thrill raced down your spine at the thought of taking him in your mouth.
Steve groaned against your lips, his big body shuddering when you squeezed and stroked him through the thick material of his pants. So you did it again, rubbing him with your palm until you felt his hard length jump against your fingers, like his body was just as eager for your touch as the rest of him.
“We don’t have to do more,” Steve said, his voice a little breathless. “I-I mean, you don’t have to return the favor or anything. I’m good to just go to sleep if that’s what you want.”
Steve’s words were honorable, but you didn’t want to sleep.
You pushed at his larger body until he flipped onto his back. Following after him, you kissed down his chest, taking a moment to nuzzle in the soft hair scattered across his pecs before you lifted your head and caught his eye, letting him see the desire in yours.
“I bet I’ve dreamed about sucking your cock just as much as you dreamed about eating my pussy,” you whispered huskily, holding his gaze determinedly while you shifted down his body until your face was level with his bulge. You mouthed at his hard length through his slacks. “Please, Steve, can I…?”
“Yeah—yes—fuck, sunshine, you can do whatever you want,” he rasped, helping you undo his button and fly, his fingers trembling. Then he lifted his hips so you could pull his pants down.
You felt like you were unwrapping the most perfect Christmas present as you tugged his slacks and boxer briefs down his thick, toned thighs. You even let out a little gasp of delight when Steve’s cock bounced free, marveling at the sheer masculine beauty of it.
Impatiently, you pulled his clothes the rest of the way off, pausing only to kiss his thighs, enjoying the softness of his leg hair against your lips and cheeks, before returning to his cock.
Taking him in hand, you circled your fingers around the thick shaft and gave him a loose pump, watching how he bucked his hips into your fist from just that little bit of touching. Steve’s hands were fisted in the blankets on the bed, like he was holding himself back from touching you, and you decided you want to make the man—your man—lose himself in pleasure, just like he’d done to you.
You ducked down and licked the tip of Steve’s cock, humming in delight as the salty, musky taste of his precum burst on your tongue. The vibrations made Steve groan and you hid a self-satisfied smirk against his cock, before refocusing on your task.
You pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses up and down Steve’s shaft, staring up his hard, firm body while he watched you worship his cock. His cheeks were tinged pink, a light sheen of sweat dotting his brow and his eyes were so dark, his pupils blown so wide, they looked like the navy blue night sky on a winter evening.
When you ducked down further, taking his balls into your mouth and suckling greedily, Steve’s gaze widened and his cock twitched in your hand.
“Sunshine,” he rasped, the nickname sounding like a plea for mercy as he groaned loudly. “Ya keep sucking my balls and I’m gonna come way too soon.”
With a smirk, you gave his sensitive sac one last little suckle before letting it fall from your lips, then you licked up the length of his cock.
“Can’t have that,” you quipped, shooting him a smug grin. You pressed a kiss to the tip and wrapped your lips around the head, taking him into your mouth and sucking hard enough to make his hips buck up off the bed.
Another anguished sound wrenched free from Steve’s lips.
“Oh fuck,” he moaned as he settled back down, one of his hands coming to rest on the crown of your head—not pushing you down or pulling you away, just holding you like he couldn’t help but touch you.
For a moment, you focused on Steve’s cock, pulling back before taking him deeper into your mouth, using your tongue to swirl around the head and trace the veins decorating his shaft while your fist stroked him. But when you flicked your gaze up to Steve, you found him watching you with adoration in his eyes.
“You’re amazing, sunshine,” he rumbled when he noticed he had your attention, one side of his mouth pulling up in a lopsided grin. “You’re gorgeous—and you look so fucking hot with my cock in your mouth.”
The corners of your mouth flickered in a pleased smile as his praise washed over you, and you closed your eyes, soaking it in. When you opened them again, you redoubled your efforts on Steve, bobbing up and down on his length at a steady pace while you pumped him in your fist.
You lost yourself in the pleasure of sucking Steve’s cock, and before long, you could feel yourself growing wet all over again. Your inner walls clenched pathetically around nothing while your mouth was filled with his big dick, but you didn’t want to stop.
However, before you could make Steve come down your throat, his hands gently gripped your head and he pulled you up off his cock. With his considerable strength, Steve hauled you back up the bed and rolled you over onto your back beneath him, bracing himself on one hand while the other slide between your thighs. He bit off a curse when he felt how wet you were.
“Christ, sunshine, ya got this wet from sucking my cock?” he asked, a note of teasing in his tone that had heat coursing through your body. Before you could respond, though, his mouth found yours for a kiss.
You were certain he must’ve been able to taste himself on your tongue, but he didn’t seem to care. He was too determined to devour your lips and swallow your moan while he speared you open with two fingers, capturing your cry of pleasure.
“Oh god, Steve,” you mumbled against his mouth, your hips rocking into his hand and fucking his fingers. “Please, I need you—I need you to fuck me.” Your hand was fisted in Steve’s soft hair and you clung to him, your entire being straining to get closer while still taking all the pleasure his fingers offered.
“Thank fuck—I need you so goddamned bad, sunshine,” he groaned, easing his fingers from your dripping hole and rolling onto his back so he could reach for something.
A moment later, you heard the sound of a wooden drawer snap closed and he rolled back on top of you, the square foil packet of a condom held in his fingers.
“Ya wanna do the honors?” he asked, his grin so charming and so like the Steve you’d known for so many years that it took your breath away.
But there was a comfort and an ease to the moment because you were there with Steve—your Steve—and you laughed at his silly offer. You were shaking your head even as you took the packet and tore it open, tossing the foil aside and making quick work of rolling the condom onto his cock.
When you were done, you gave the base of his shaft an affectionate squeeze and Steve chuckled, capturing your lips in a kiss while he shifted on top of you, pressing his knees between your legs and spreading your thighs to make room for his big, broad body.
You opened happily for him, kissing him back while your legs hooked around the backs of his thighs. Together, you lined your bodies up until Steve’s cock lay heavily against your mound, kissing lazily all the while.
After a moment, Steve broke the kiss, pushing himself up with one hand while the other fisted his hard length and held himself away from the place where you ached for him to fill. He stared deep into your eyes and gave you a serious look, a little bit of anxiety swirling in his gaze.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his eyes roving over your face like he was searching for any hidden remnant of hesitance on your part—any sign that you might run, you realized. “Because I’ve wanted this—I’ve wanted you for so long, that if you tell me tomorrow this was a mistake…” Steve paused, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed, “it’ll break my fucking heart, sunshine.”
Steve’s voice cracked a little on the pet name and it made your heart split open in your chest. You didn’t know if you’d ever forgive yourself for hurting Steve the way you did, for saying those things you didn’t mean and trying to push him away when all you’d wanted was to pull him closer.
You decided then and there to make it up to him—and that began with being honest with him. Always.
So you threaded your fingers into Steve’s beard until you were cupping his face and you stared him directly in the eye as you answered his question.
“I’m sure, Steve,” you said firmly, certainty resonating in your tone. “I was scared before—I’ve wanted you for so long that the thought of finally having you was terrifying.” You gave him a tremulous, apologetic smile, and his expression softened. “But I’m sure about this,” you said again, your voice stronger. “I’m sure about you, and I’m sure about us.”
When you finished your confession, Steve’s eyes closed and he exhaled a long, relieved breath. You pulled him down for a kiss, and it was a gentle thing—tentative as you both savored the vulnerability you shared, physically and emotionally, thanking one another for the trust that took.
It was only when the kiss ended and Steve pressed his forehead to yours that he pushed inside you for the first time, his thick cock sinking deep into your pussy with one determined, inexorable thrust.
Your arms and legs were wrapped around him already and you clung to Steve as you cried out, tears of emotion pricking at the backs of your eyes even as pleasure radiated through your body.
“You ok?” Steve asked softly and the question—so gentle and genuine—had a tear spilling onto your cheek. He brushed it away.
“This is the happiest I’ve ever been,” you admitted in a thick voice, tugging Steve’s mouth back to yours, kissing him deeply.
Together, you gave yourselves over to your instincts. Steve pulled his hips back until only half of him remained inside, and your heels dug into the backs of his thighs, urging him to plunge deep into you again. He slid home, and both of you moaned.
Steve rocked into you with slow, thorough thrusts, but when you moaned for more, he drew back more each time and thrust harder. It wasn’t long before he was fucking you in hard, deep strokes that hit all the most perfect spots inside you, his mouth kissing your cheeks and neck and anywhere he could reach while he held you pinned to his chest, his hips working his cock deep into your cunt.
With every hard thrust, you clung more tightly to Steve, holding him with your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers buried in his hair, thankful he’d grown it long enough that you could grip it tight in your fists. Your body writhed beneath his bigger form, using your legs draped around his thighs to meet his thrusts.
For what seemed like forever, you and Steve were nothing more than two writhing bodies trying to get closer, deeper, tighter together, like your hearts were straining to become one. And you were so consumed with pleasure that it wasn’t until you were right on the precipice of your release that you realized you were close.
“Steve,” you gasped, trying to tell him you were going to come, and just then he changed the angle of his hips, stealing the words from your lips.
He was driving his cock so deep into your cunt and grinding against your clit so exquistiely that you saw stars. Your body shook under a deluge of pleasure and the coil of tension twisted tighter in your core.
“Come for me, sunshine,” Steve rumbled, fucking you hard and deep and so perfectly you knew you were forever ruined for any other man. “Be a good girl and come on my cock before I fucking explode.”
His filthy words were your undoing.
You shattered apart, sharp, sparkling pleasure devastating your body and mind while you screamed Steve’s name as you came. Your whole body clenched tight, clamping down on Steve’s cock hard enough that he grunted into your neck, then you succumbed to the pleasure as it dragged you under its thrall, whimpers and moans spilling from your lips mindlessly.
Steve’s hands gripped your hips tightly, and he rutted into your clenching pussy with wild thrusts as he chased his own release. He found it only a moment after yours, groaning your name against your cheek while his hips stuttered and shunted forward, burying himself balls-deep in your fluttering pussy while he came, his cock throbbing deep in your cunt.
You held each other close as you came down from your releases. Your fingers stroked through Steve’s soft hair, the strands damp with sweat, and twirled around the gently curling ends. Meanwhile, his hands were petting up and down your sides, his face buried in the pillow beside your head while he rumbled muffled words of praise in your ear.
Eventually, Steve sat up, pulling his softening cock as gently from your body as he could manage, watching your face closely for any hint of pain. You were a little sore, but when he pulled free, your body mourned the loss of him more than anything else.
He quickly disposed of the condom and wrapper in his bathroom, then came back with a warm wet washcloth. He cleaned you up with gentle caresses, pressing a kiss to your hip and nipping playfully at your belly until you were giggling and pushing him away, your body too tired and sated and oversensitive for such treatment—but you were grinning all the same.
When he was done, you rose from the bed and went to the bathroom while he padded to his dresser. After you were done, you found Steve relaxing on his bed in only a pair of lounge pants, his chiseled chest deliciously bare and biceps bulging with his hands tucked behind his head.
You paused, raking your eyes over his gorgeous chest, only catching his gaze when he made a deep, rumbling sound of good-natured warning.
“You better put on some pajamas, sunshine,” Steve started, his blue eyes heated and a playful smile flickering at the edges of his mouth, almost hidden by his beard. “Unless you want me to fuck you again.”
The threat in his tone was flirtatious and you almost took him up on the offer. But you knew that if Steve fucked you again, you’d be sore the next day, and you didn’t want that. Huffing a petulant sigh, you moved to the pile of folded clothes Steve had left on the corner of the bed.
The heat in Steve’s eyes didn’t abate as he watched you pull one of his shirts over your head, tugging the hem down until it covered your ass and part of your thigh. You didn’t have any clean panties, so you crawled into bed like that, your eyes finding Steve and watching as the heat of desire softened into the warmth of affection.
The two of you slid beneath the blankets and you curled up at Steve’s side, your head on his chest. You fell asleep quickly and easily to the sound of his gentle breathing, and the steady drumming of his heart beating beneath your cheek.
The next morning, you woke to snow flurries drifting past the windows of Steve’s bedroom, the flakes having covered his neighborhood in a blanket of white while you slept. You pressed a happy smile against Steve’s sternum, the expression deepening when you felt his heart skip a beat at your closeness.
“So, is my bed comfy enough for you, sunshine?” he asked in the deep rasp of a man who’d just woken up. Using his arms looped around your waist, he pulled you on top of him, his mouth finding yours for a decadent good morning kiss before he let you answer.
“Hmm,” you hummed playfully in thought, smiling against his mouth while you pulled him closer with your fingers curled into the scruffy, coarse hair of his beard. “It could use a few more pillows—and maybe a nice throw blanket.”
“Consider it done,” he murmured, rolling you beneath his broad body and sliding his hips between your thighs. His morning wood brushed against your bare core and you moaned into his mouth. “Anything you want, you just tell me, sunshine,” he rumbled in between slow, drugging kisses, his hips rolling leisurely against you. “I want my girlfriend to feel comfortable here.”
“Girlfriend?” you gasped breathlessly, your heart beating harder with excitement while he pulled away to kiss down your neck. You could feel Steve’s grin against the side of your throat before he pressed a kiss against your thrumming pulse.
“You wanna be my girlfriend, don’t ya, sunshine?” he asked.
It was only because you’d known Steve for so long, and were so determined never to hurt him again, that you heard the tiny thread of anxiety in his tone. You squeezed him tightly in your arms and rushed to answer, eager to put his worry to rest.
“Yes!” you cried happily. “Yes, I want to be your girlfriend, Steve.” You twisted your fingers in his soft hair and tugged his mouth up from your neck. “Now kiss me, boyfriend,” you murmured and Steve, obligingly, crushed his mouth to yours in a blissful kiss.
You and Steve reveled in your new relationship, spending a long time in bed just kissing and exploring each other and making up for lost time before your growling stomachs finally made you get up.
After breakfast, Steve seemed to remember something and he padded to the entryway, coming back with the box he’d acquired at the holiday market the evening before. He handed it to you, saying there was no way he’d be able to wait until Christmas to give it to you.
You opened the present, finding a simple silver chain and a stunningly engraved sun pendant within. You were so overwhelmed with happiness that tears sprang to your eyes and you had to hastily wipe them away.
“A little bit of sunshine for my sunshine,” Steve murmured against your temple before pressing a kiss to your skin.
At your insistence, he helped you put the necklace on and you thanked him graciously—with words and kisses. Then you towed Steve back to bed, and the two of you gave in to the pleasure of your bodies until you collapsed, sated once again.
All day, you couldn’t stop smiling. You were doing one of your favorite things, snuggling on a snowy day, with one of your favorite people in the world—your boyfriend. And you were making plans for the future, talking about what you were going to get your other friends for Christmas and arguing about how to best decorate Steve’s apartment for the holiday.
The whole time, you couldn’t help but think about how Christmas would always be extra special for you from that year on. It was a wonderful holiday but, more importantly to you, it was when you and Steve Rogers finally admitted your feelings for one another and took the first step toward a forever together.
So, this time of year would always be your favorite time of year.
december daze challenge masterlist
#steve rogers#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers smut#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#navy and roo's sleepover#steve rogers fic#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers au#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers one shot#chris evans#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans characters#chris evans smut#witchywithwhiskeywork#december daze#friends to lovers
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Only Angel [Mafia!Azriel]
SUMMARY: Azriel's a dangerous Mafia leader, Y/N is his favourite dancer at his strip club. His usual Friday night dance turns into something a little more. (6.2k)
WARNINGS: mentions of the mafia and illegal activities, kissing, teasing, swearing, smut; dirty talk, sexual intercourse, spanking, fingering, lap dance.
A/N: This is a rewrite of a very old fic from an old fandom I was in. I’ve edited it the best I can to fit around Azriel’s character, so I apologise in advance if anything appears out of place :)
Azriel owns a lot of businesses. From stores to hotels, to apartments to clubs. To many, he's a man of business, a man of money. To those aware of the world around them, he's a man of the mafia. Powerful and dangerous. Maybe that's what caught her eye all that time ago, the mysterious aura that bubbled around him.
Y/N's been a dancer at his club since it opened three years ago. It started as a joke between her friends. She was fresh in college and desperately needed a part-time job to pay her bills after she was laid off from the bakery she'd been working at. Callie had mentioned a new strip joint opening on the outskirts of Prythian, that it was a more underground, elite sort of club.
Y/N had laughed it off, joking that she'd look into it and then didn't think of it anymore. But after two weeks of job hunting and no luck, she found herself bumping into a group of young women in a restroom at a bar, and somehow snagged herself an interview at said club.
Eria Vanserra, manager of the club, had hired her the second she opened her mouth and her pretty little voice spoke her name. Y/N was attractive, there was absolutely no doubt in that. She had that look of pure innocence in her eyes, but her lips were wicked.
The girls had trained her up, taught her the basics on the pole. She's grown close to them, thinks of them as her sisters more than colleagues. They're a team, have each other's backs when new customers try to take advantage and hype each other up for when the regular 60-year-olds come in and request private sessions.
Y/N -- or rather Angel -- only offers private sessions for one customer: The Boss. They met just over a year into her employment, and it was on their first greeting that Azriel took an instant liking to the devilish dancer, and she took the same approach with him.
Y/N's been teased for it relentlessly; snickers made from a few of the girls that didn't like how much Azriel liked her, but she didn't care then, and she doesn't care now. Not when every other Friday night, he has her booked for an intimate performance in the back room -- the room that's only ever reserved by him.
It's been a long week. Classes were cancelled due to some ongoing investigation with one of Y/N's professors, and so she's been able to pick up shifts every night at the club. Shadow's is an elite place, and Y/N knows it. It's a home for the best dancers and the richest of men that sneak off to get their fix.
It's not a brothel -- at least, not primarily. And none of the girls is ever forced into anything they don't want to do. That's one of the first things Eris made very clear.
You're here to dance. Private sessions are your own choice, and anything that goes on behind closed curtains is your decision. If you want to offer extra services, the club doesn't touch that money.
Y/N's never been one to stray from the pole. She knows her strengths, and she knows her weaknesses. She's strong, it's obvious, but even the strongest of dancers find it unsettling to be behind a closed curtain with a strange man that clearly can't get much outside of what his money can buy.
The thought unsettles her, but she's never let her own discomfort project on the other girls that spend hours in private rooms with a different man every twenty minutes. They're the real talent, she thinks. Inspiring and badass, and Y/N wishes she had that extra ounce of confidence that they do.
Or at least, she used to wish so. Before she met Azriel -- before he started watching her whenever he stopped by. For two years, she's the only dancer his honey eyes have watched, and something about that knowledge gives Y/N all the confidence she thinks she'll ever need.
Because she's the one that gets under the mafia leaders' skin. His eyes are always on Y/N. She's the one that occupies his mind and tightens his pants from her presence on the pole. It wasn't until almost five months ago that Azriel made a move to ask for a private dance.
He's done it before, many times. He's had his dick sucked more than he can remember behind those red curtains, but never by a woman as captivating and as talented as her -- his Angel.
Azriel still remembers the first time he laid eyes on her, upon that risen stage with soft lights offering a halo effect on her silhouette. He saw her hips first, her long legs as she wrapped them around the poll and jutted her ass out deliciously. Then he saw her face -- those angelic eyes and sinful lips, and he knew he was fucked.
He remembers pulling Eris to the side, eyes still on her as he asked who the fuck she was, and why someone so beautiful was working for him. Remembers the way Eris told him her stage name, how it had his cock springing to life in appreciation for the way she moved.
It all seems like a lifetime ago when he thinks back to it. And while there have been plenty of Friday nights that he frequents the club, he's yet to take things outside of the red room.
And it's not that he doesn't want to, because he does -- more than he wants a lot of things. But Azriel is a man of honour (even in his line of work), and he's never been one to pressure a woman into something he wants.
But Angel isn't like any woman. Not to him.
Azriel deems she's by far the most precious thing he's ever laid eyes on, and he has a need to hold and protect her and show her just how a woman like herself deserves to be treated.
He could give her the world, and they both know it.
Tonight is like every other late Friday evening. Y/N's dolled up to the nines as she reapplies her lipstick. She's been at the club since seven, and three dances later and a round of waitressing, it's nearing midnight. Y/N's ready to go to bed.
She's ready to call it a night, to tell Eris she's heading out early after picking up so many shifts in the week. Not only because she's tired, but also, Azriel hasn't shown up yet, and he's never come this late before.
Just as Y/N is adjusting her bra straps, she sees Mor’s head pop out through the corner of the door through the mirror. The blonde has a wide grin on her face, and she knows exactly what that suggests.
"He's here."
Y/N rolls her eyes. "He's also late. My shift ends in ten minutes."
Mor pouts out her lips, shaking her head, and her breasts bounce slightly on her covered chest. "But he's asking for you. And stop pretending like it's such a burden. You love when he shows up, and he loves when you dance for him. We all know it. Quit acting like you don't secretly enjoy it." She bites back, stomping her foot to make her point and Y/N spins in her chair to look at her full on.
Mor raises her brows. "All the other girls would kill to dance for him, to have him ask for them. Myself included. Stop acting like a brat and put on a fucking show."
Y/N isn't given a chance to reply because Mor is sauntering out of the dressing room, and she's left alone to swiftly get ready. She pretends to ignore the rampaging butterflies in her stomach at the idea of seeing him again.
She's never scared, could never be. Y/N knows Azriel would never hurt her. But, she's nervous. Azriel always gives Y/N his undivided attention when she's dancing for him, and it's intimidating and exciting all at once. His eyes are so dark and calculated, and he's always so damn respectful when she sits on his lap -- never wanting to make her uncomfortable.
Sometimes, Y/N just wants him to take charge. Even knowing exactly what he's capable of, she wants him to take her. Ravish her. Have his way with her. She wants him to completely dominate her, and often, Y/N finds herself wondering what would happen if she riled him up enough to get him to that state.
If she acted like a brat, would he throw her over his lap and spank her?
If she talked back, would he pull her hair or spit in her mouth?
If she asked for him to touch her, would he grip her ass and kiss her neck?
Y/N's mind swirls with the unanswered questions every time she sees him, and it's getting a bit much to keep to herself. She's getting tired of being a little plaything to him –- not that she has the right to be upset, but she is.
She doesn't like that he only comes to her every Friday night. To the club. Is she not worth more than two hours a week?
Then spirals the anxiety.
Is he only coming to her because he thinks she's easy? Is he doing it because he knows he'll never have to do anything more than let her dance? Is he doing it out of pity? Because he thinks she's lonely, so it's to make her feel special?
Is Azriel even attracted to her, or does he just do it for shits and giggles? Does he go back to his brothers and his men and laugh about her? At her? Is it all a bit of fun to him?
Y/N gets too in her head, and then the idea of seeing him again is revolting. She doesn't know him -- she can't say whether her thoughts are crazy or valid. She doesn't know the kind of person he really is -- despite the rumours.
But though she goes through these motions, Y/N pushes them to the back of her head and gets on with it. She puts on her smile, and she dances.
Azriel tends to book her out for an hour at a time, sometimes two hours if he's feeling extra needy or he has the time. And he's generous with his money, too. Typically, he pays double for her time, which is a month's rent for Y/N but pocket change for him.
It makes her feel dirty, but she has to remind herself that actually, this is her job and he does have the money and means to pay for her time.
That's all he's doing -- paying for her time. For her. Like some sort of cheap and easy prostitute that he can go to whenever he needs a fix. And she never touches him (not under his clothes), but it still makes her feel dirty.
Y/N knows what the other girls do in the private rooms; the type of shows that they offer. She doesn't judge them, she could never. They're all in the same or similar boats: broke and trying to make a living, to make ends meet. But none of them dance for the owner. None of them are ever requested by him.
Y/N takes a deep breath and composes herself. She can't look in the mirror for a moment longer because if she does, she'll start seeing every flaw she has, and she'll never leave the damn dressing room.
The club is busy, it always is on a Friday night. There's a party in the upper left tier, a few dancers that have been hired for the night and Y/N is more than pleased that she wasn't booked for it. It's a bunch of frat boys celebrating one of their friend's birthdays, and from Y/N's place on the lower deck, she can already recognise a few familiar faces from her classes.
The last thing she needs is for people to know she's an erotic dancer at one of the most elite, secret clubs.
She doesn't bother questioning how the younger men know about the place.
Y/N makes her way toward the private booths, and the one to the far right has its curtains closed. She takes a deep breath, knows he's sitting behind it, waiting for her.
She doesn't give herself any time to hype herself up or change her mind, because she's pushing through the red velvet curtain and closing it behind her.
The booths are all the same. Dim lighting and velvet cushioned seats. The walls are deep, silky pink, the furniture all an intoxicating shade of red, and in the centre of the rounded chair, Azriel sits.
His legs are spread wide, dressed to the nines in a slick black suit, and his bulging arms are outstretched across the back of the chair.
He's shed his blazer, has it hanging on the side, his shirt sleeves folded up to his elbows, swirls of black ink coating his dark complexion. Everything about his attire screams power and sex, and Y/N hasn't even looked at his face yet.
"There’s my pretty girl."
Her eyes dart up, his lips are parted. There's a knowing smirk on his pink mouth, and Azriel's eyes are a glimmering caramel under the dim light. Y/N thinks he's never looked more handsome, but that's always her thought whenever she sees him.
She can't help the contagiously shy smile that tugs on the corners of her plump lips.
"Little late tonight," she mentions quietly.
He doesn't say anything, and his eyes are too busy taking in her appearance. He hasn't seen this outfit before; a lilac cami bodysuit, entirely of lace. The chest of it is plunged yet lifted, and her supple breasts look the most inviting they've ever been.
Azriel struggles to wrap his head around the sight of her -- he always does. Always thinks she looks even prettier every time he sees her.
Azriel finally shrugs his shoulders. "I'm a busy man, Angel. Thought you knew that by now." He doesn't take his eyes off her, he can't.
Completely fucking mesmerised.
Y/N shrugs. "Must've been extra busy to be this late." She tells him.
Y/N is making her way closer, her hips swaying with every small step and Azriel's sure he can feel his cock twitch in his pants from anticipation.
"I was starting to think you weren't going to come."
He raises a brow as she settles herself in his lap, his scarred hands–that she’s never shown any distaste to–slowly yet respectfully finding her waist.
"Oh, I always come, baby."
She knows there's a double meaning to his statement — can tell by the smirk on his lips and the tone of his voice. Always a smooth talker.
Y/N decides that if he can play, so can she.
"I wouldn't know."
Azriel's the one to stop her hips from moving on top of his, and he chases her gaze to lock eyes. She's deadpanning -- void of emotion on her pretty little face and Azriel thinks this newfound side of her is the sexiest thing he's witnessed in a long time.
He cocks a brow. "Playing like that tonight, are we?" He asks, his thumbs pressing into the fleshy skin of her side.
Y/N shrugs her shoulders, plays coy. "I don't know. Are we?"
She twists the question, unsure where this surge of confidence is coming from, but she isn't about to back down from it, from him.
She wants more than just a lap dance. She thinks Azriel does too.
Azriel stays quiet for a moment or two like he's toying with the idea of having his way with her -- of letting her have him.
He squints and tries to look for an ounce of uncertainty or hesitancy. He comes empty, finding nothing short of confidence and desire. But has she thought it all through?
Has she thought about what this could mean? Has she accepted the fact that they may never see each other again -- something so silly because Azriel quite likes the girl, but if he kisses her, touches her -- what if it inherently puts her in danger?
She senses his dismay and offers an ultimatum; one that she knows she'll win.
"Because either we are, or you need to find a new dancer."
The threat awakens something in him. Something primal — animalistic. His eyes flash, darker and darker until his swelling pupils almost completely drown out the honey in his eyes.
His grip on her hips tighten, and Azriel forces her closer; lace-clad chest bumping against his clothed one. "I don't want a new dancer." He tells her. His voice is firm, tone even and stable. He knows what he wants, and now, she knows it's her.
Y/N lets her fingers reach for the longer curls on the nape of his neck. She intertwines her fingers around them, generously tugging, so his head pulls back just enough for her to use her other hand to grip his chin. Azriel's lips are parted, eyes hooded. He can feel her breath fan across his face as she brings hers closer.
"But that's all I am to you, right? Just a dancer?"
He isn't sure what she's doing -- whether she's fishing for something more or if she's about to walk out of the booth and leave him panting and painfully hard.
He plays into it, though. Let's see where this is going.
"More than just a dancer, baby." He promises.
Y/N ghosts her plump lips over his. "Yeah?" She breathes, her voice an airy whisper and Azriels got the perfect fucking sight of her cleavage. Reckons he wants nothing more than to bury his face between her pert tits.
He nods. "Mhm, you're my Angel." He tells her.
Azriel's hands reach around for her ass, grabbing handfuls and pulling her cheeks taut. He removes his hand and strikes it back down on her warm, fleshy skin. Y/N jolts into his body, teeth gnawing painfully on her lower lip to bite back her desperate pleads and whines.
Azriel gropes her again, massaging her cheeks and grabbing fistfuls. "My Angel."
His. She's all fucking his.
Her breathing is laboured as she takes in his words. Y/N tries not to let him see how riled up they make her, but she knows Azriel can see straight through any facade she tries to hide behind.
"Well, if I'm an angel, that must make you the devil."
Y/N's words echo through his mind, and his grip on her waist tightens in a squeeze before it loosens. His eyes find her chest, lip taut between his teeth.
"Maybe I am. Tell me, Angel… are you really ready to be corrupted?"
His eyes find hers, low and hooded and full of so much excitement and darkness, he gets lost in the way she pulls him in. Y/N's hands find his on her waist, her fingers gripping over his and his hold tightens again.
She rolls her hips against his crotch. "Maybe that's exactly what I want," she whispers, her lips trailing over the shell of his ear and her warm breath fans across his neck. "Maybe I'm already a little wicked."
She pulls away, nose brushing past his but he doesn't let her put any more distance between them. He wants her close, likes the feel of her warm breath on his face, likes the sweet scent of vanilla and coconut that's splattered on her skin and lingers in his mind.
Her lips are parted, as is Azriel's, and he can see the little peek of her glistening tongue, teetering between her teeth. His own does the same, subconsciously matching her teasing and his length throbs beneath her; something they both feel but neither say.
"If we do this, there's no going back. You're not just a fuck to me."
Y/N's heart skips, her heat quivering and chills run down her spine. So she is more to him... but what will this mean after?
"If I'm not just a fuck, then what am I?" She pries.
Azriel nudges the tip of his nose with hers. A smirk ghosts on the corners of her lips as they brush against hers. "My Angel," he whispers. "My only Angel."
Y/N envelopes Azriel's lips in hers, fingers reaching for the back of his head and they tug at the curls on the nape of his neck. It's hot, fiery. She can feel her soul ignite in bursts of white flames, and Azriel's no better at controlling himself.
His mind is foggy, judgement clouded, but he knows he never wants to live a day without feeling her pillowy lips on his. So he kisses her harder, grips her hips with such force they both know she'll bruise by morning. But she loves it, loves the idea of having him mark her and the animalistic part of Azriel craves it too.
"I'm not gonna go easy on you." He warns her breathlessly through the smacking of lips, but Y/N rolls more rigid atop him; pulls his hair that little bit eager.
"Good," she pants, pulling away. "I want it hard."
Y/N stands between his thick, parted thighs. She lets her mouth water as her gaze takes him in. Azriel's no better. His cock is leaping eagerly in his pants at the sight of her. Perfect body in a perfect set, lips swollen and eyes wholly fucked. Her hair is a mess, lipstick smudged and fuck, does he want to shove her face into his silk pillows and ram her little pussy from behind until she can't breathe.
"You're gonna kill me, Angel." He chokes out through his lust-filled daydream, chest heaving in anticipation.
Then she starts to sink to her knees and rubs her palms up his inner thighs, and Azriel about loses it. He shakes his head, breathing hard through gritted teeth and his hands find her wrists, halting her movements.
He shakes his head as he pulls Y/N to her feet, dragging closer until she's straddling him again. Azriel's hands cup her jaw, fingers tangled in her hair. "Gonna take my time with you, have you squirming beneath me until you beg me to stop." His promise has her drooping eyes flutter close, and her lips parting. Thinks she's the sexiest thing he's ever laid eyes on.
His nose bumps hers, lips touching but they don't kiss. "But right now, I need you to be a good girl and turn around."
Azriel's voice is stern, commanding. It makes her pussy throb and clench and gush, and he knows it. She nods and moves on trembling legs, turning so her back is to him, and Azriel's hands find their home on the swell of her ass.
There's something about him being so strong and dominant to her that has Y/N a puddle of arousal and submission.
She bites back a squeak as he smacks a palm down on her cheek, her eyes squinted closed while Azriel licks his lips at the way her flesh moves with the force of his strike. "Perfect fucking ass."
Y/N gnaws on her bottom lip, teeth piercing the skin but the slight sting of pain only spurs her on -- makes her even more eager for him. She sways her hips, ass a perfect peach shape as she does so and Azriel grips her hips and forces her on his crotch.
Her arousal is sticky against the lace of her panties as she can feel the thick outline of Azriel's cock when she gets seated over his clothed centre.
"Holy shit," she gulps.
Y/N has heard the rumours, the ones that are whispered in the shadows of the night -- of the one that's half man, half something else.
Now she can feel him directly beneath her, and Y/N's mind is heavy and clouded. "Feel how hard you make me?"
His lips are ghosting across her ear; teeth nibbling hauntingly on the shell of it which sends shivers down her spine.
Y/N nods, breathless and wanton. She can't make sense of anything, but she knows she wants this -- needs this.
"Use your words."
She swallows, shaky whimper teetering on the tip of her tongue. "Yes, I can feel you."
Azriel's sick behind her; full of himself as she strokes his ever-growing ego. There's something about hearing her so vocally express how much she wants him, how much she can feel him that has Azriel seeing stars. He isn't blind, he can see just how desperate and hungry the woman is, but a little verbal confirmation never hurt anyone.
His hands rest upon the globes of her ass again, swatting and smoothing however he pleases. The hits have her jolting and shrieking — they have tears stinging at her eyes but fuck, she wants more. She needs it harder.
"Please," she coos softly.
Her voice is cracking and unsteady like she's walking on eggshells.
"Please." Azriel mimics, voice high and childish, one that has her squirming in his lap.
He spanks her again. "Please, what?"
There's a pause of silence as Y/N attempts to catch her breath. She knows what this man can do to her, how he can make her feel. She knows he'll be far from vanilla, and maybe that's exactly what she wants and needs.
"Please, sir." She breathes. "Fuck me."
Smack!
A shrill shriek tears through her chest, and Azriel strikes his palm back down on her skin. His other busies with his belt, tugging it open and popping the button of his pants. He drags down the zip, a sound that echoes through her ears and sends shivers down her spine.
Y/N looks back over her shoulder, her hands steadying herself on Azriel's parted knees when she sees him. Thick, long... oozing with his sweet arousal that she wants to suckle up and swallow down her throat.
His cock stands tall, smacking against his lower stomach and he's big -- better than anything Y/N's ever had before. Her mouth waters at the sight. She can feel her cunt pulsing when his scarred hand wraps around his length and tugs deliciously at himself.
She whines, eager and needy. Azriel's eyes are on her ass, hasn't even realised that she's looking back at him.
He toys with the lace of her panties that disappears between her cheeks. Looping his pointer finger under the fabric at the top of her ass, he lifts it and bunches the lace in a fist, effectively tugging friction across her cunt as he gets a better view of her ass.
She's glistening, he can see. Y/N's pussy is swollen, and the sides of her lips threaten to spill out of the fabric that barely covers her.
"I'll fuck you, baby." He tells her.
Azriel tugs the lace to the side, her pussy soaked and perfect. He swipes a thumb through her wetness, swirling around her tight hole and bringing his thumb to his mouth as he suckles her arousal.
Sweet. So fucking sweet.
He grasps his cock in his hand again, pumping a few ample times before holding himself at the base and lining up with her sopping cunt. Azriel teases her for a moment, smacking the ruddy head of his prick against her pussy and she whines, rolls closer to him.
With a sick grin, Azriel massages his tip against her hole, jutting softly as he pushes in just enough to get comfortable. A low whine echoes through the room, but neither of them knows who it belongs to.
His hands find her hips, squeezing at her flesh. "But you won't be dancing on that pole for a few days."
Lifting his hips and pulling her down by hers, Azriel sheathes into her at once. Her frantic gasp tears through her lips, and her eyes are wide and watering with complete bliss and pain.
Azriel's gritting his teeth, sharp breath spitting through between them. He can't believe how fucking tight she is, and Y/N is fairly confident she can feel him so deep in her fucking stomach.
"Such a tight fucking cunt, Angel." Azriel's mind is in turmoil, can't quite fucking believe a cunt can feel this good.
Y/N is no better; she's a quivering mess on top of him, her grip on his clothed knees surely carving half-moons upon his skin but if it's causing Azriel any pain or discomfort, he seems to love it.
"So big, feel so full," she whines out.
Her ass is nestled in his lap, the coarse hairs of his pubic bone tickling at her supple skin and Y/N rolls her hips experimentally against his. He's still gripping her hips as she moves, her cunt clenching deliciously around his length and he's positively amazed by just how fucking tight she is.
"Yeah? Feel me in your tummy, Angel?"
She's nodding, whining filthily, and she can't comprehend how sex can feel this good. One hand of Azriel's snakes around her body, tips of his fore and middle finger massaging tight circles on her clit.
Y/N's cunt is on fire, swelling and pulsing and fucking gushing all over the thickness of Azriel's entire dick. He's a mess below her, though. He can't believe how well she's taking the entirety of him.
She's snug, tight — warm and fucking soaked. The feeling of her swallowing him up is completely euphoric; has Azriel's eyes rolling to the back of his head.
His rhythm on her clit is furious; strong, tight circles that have filthy cries and moans slipping past her flawlessly painted lips. Y/N's still gripping his knees, hips rolling and pussy squelching.
"Yeah, right in my tummy. God, it's so good. Don't stop, Azzy... please don't stop."
Y/N is a blubbering mess, eyes squeezed shut and jaw slack. She bounces quickly on top of him, feeling every vein and ridge of his thick cock as it pounds into her and tears her apart. Her walls are slick around him, desperate to milk him dry and take his sticky cum.
Azriel lets his eyes focus on her ass, the way it's spread just a little and how the imprint of his ringed hands are starting to bloom on her supple cheeks. Azriel's eyes divert lower when he sees it, sees her take him.
Her lips are swollen, clinging to his length as she comes off him. The base of his cock is soaked, the start of a creamy ring forming around him and Azriel can't get enough. He relents his assault on her clit, makes for her ass instead and pulls her cheeks as far apart as he can.
His hands massage her skin, saliva welling on his tongue and parting his gritted teeth for a split second, he spits down on her puckering hole and rubs the lubricant across her ass.
Y/N keens at the touch -- the welcomed intrusion -- and bounces faster. Azriel's thumbing at her hole, teasingly rubbing the tip of his thumb around her but it has her a quivering and desperate mess.
"Please, please." She pants out, head falling back and eyes tightly shut.
Azriel gnaws on his lower lip, biting back a smirk, but his hooded eyes are a dead giveaway he's having the time of his life. "Yeah?" He rasps. "Want me in both your holes, Princess?" He baits. He knows it's exactly what she wants.
Y/N nods quickly, crying and pleading for something. He knows precisely the effect he's got on her right now, the power Azriel holds over her, (not that he sees it that way, but knowing she's in such a besotted state from him playing with her ass a little, is feeding Azriel's ego tremendously.)
"Now that's not very Angel-like of you, is it? Angel?"
A shriek leaves her lips as the tip of his finger pushes through, immediately enveloped in warmth and softness. She's blubbering, can't make sense of fucking anything and it feels so damn good.
Azriel never anticipated such a reaction from her, but he's got it, and he fucking loves it.
"Who would've thought," he pants, feet firm on the ground as he fucks up into her cunt, completely obliterating her soul, "that my Angel likes having her sweet little ass stuffed?"
A borderline pornographic cry teeters past her silky tongue, and Azriel's mind is keening. She's still as she hovers over his crotch, letting him fuck her however he damn well pleases. His pace is fast, cock brushing every overwhelming part it reaches as he pushes his thumb deeper into her ass.
"Your Angel," she whimpers out, eyes watering and thighs spasming. "I'm yours, all yours. Only want you stuffing me this good."
Her words are drawled in a matted string of barely comprehendible syllables, but Azriel can understand what she's saying.
"Yeah? Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, sweetheart."
"Cum! Please, cum in me, wanna feel it."
Azriel curses silently behind her, can't believe how fucking perfect this woman is. His balls feel tight, can feel her squeezing him harder and he knows she's about to come too.
"Yeah? It's gonna be a lot baby," he warns. "Think you can handle it? Think you can take my cum, Angel?"
Y/N nods quickly, vigorously. "I can take it! Please, I promise."
She's despondent, like a child. The need in her voice spurs Azriel to his edge, and as his cock bloats and shoots his arousal across her walls, she reaches her own high of euphoria.
They're both panting, grunting and moaning and whining. Y/N's gushing around his cock, creating a decent spillage on the base of him but even as he softens, he's still quite hard.
Azriel doesn't move, no. He makes no endeavour of pushing her off him. Instead, Azriel slowly pulls his fingers from her ass and cooing at the winces and whimpers that resound through the private booth. He shelters his arms around her waist to pull her back flush to his chest.
They both whimper, bodies spent, and eyes hooded. The back of Y/N's head is lounging on his shoulder when Azriel finally gets a glimpse at her face.
Totally fucked.
A wheezing laugh rumbles deep in her chest, and he reaches for her face, cupping the side of her jaw and guiding her lips to meet his in a messy, wet kiss. She pulses around him.
"You're fucking phenomenal."
Another breathy snicker falls past her lips to his. Azriel pinches her hips. "How are you feeling?"
Y/N puffs, eyes fluttering as she slowly raises, bites back the whine she wants to pout at the hollow feeling of him slipping from her cunt.
"The big bad Mob boss wants to know how I'm feeling?" She tantalises.
Azriel watches her make quick work of pulling her panties back over her cunt, halting his cum from leaking out and down her thighs, but he makes no effort to tuck his softening, yet still majestic, length back in his pants.
He lies back with his arms outstretched across the back of the oval couch. "He does," he agrees. "Cares about you, if you didn't already recognise that."
Azriel doesn't miss how she shies away from his gaze, turning her back to him to alter her outfit and to take a moment to compose herself. He takes the opportunity to fix himself too, before he's right behind her, nosing at her hair.
"I meant what I said, Angel," he murmurs. "You're not just a fuck to me."
Y/N turns, chin raised as she eyes him. Her shoulders are strained back, and Azriel knows she's making this posture move to assert confidence, and he doesn't doubt her one bit.
"Then what am I? And don't say your Angel."
"You're a strong, elegant, smart, badass, sexy, intelligent, confident woman," he begins, his hands finding her hips. "And I want you. I want you all to myself."
She peeps, her heart thumping sporadically in her chest. For a moment, it's like the mind-blowing sex from just seconds ago has been utterly omitted.
"You trust me enough for that?" She asks, and Azriel knows precisely what she's asking.
Does he trust her with who he is and what he does? Does he have trust that she will keep her mouth shut and not see him differently when she learns what he's truly capable of? Does he trust that she's all about him?
Azriel quirks a brow. "Do you trust me?"
Does she trust him with her life, because that's what it boils down to? Does she trust him enough to put her life in perpetual danger? Does she trust that he will only desire her, that he will put her before his work? Does she trust that he will never harm her?
Y/N nods. "I trust you."
Azriel drops his head, face closer to hers and the tips of their noses brush.
"Then I advise you to get your things and let me take you back to my place. Because you're in for a long fucking night, Angel."
Thank you for reading!! If you enjoyed it, please consider giving it a reblog and leaving some feedback!! <3
#azriel#azriel smut#azriel imagine#azriel angst#acotar smut#azriel oneshot#acotar imagine#acotar#azriel x you#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger#acotar x you#acotar x reader#mafia!azriel
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Rich Boys Don't Have Hearts | LN4
pairing: Jock!Lando Norris x Nerd!Reader
summary: Formula Ivy Academy, or FIA for short, is the most renowned private in the world who takes such a select few. Usually those from wealth with status and secrets and so much to lose. Yet, you are selected to join the FIA on a full scholarship. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain scares a lot students, especially their star athlete who will do anything to protect those he cares about. Though, he didn't expect you to have as much of a...bite to you for a little nobody.
warning: cursing, bribery, jealously, angst (ig???), possessive!lando maybe??? def ooc Lando at points i know it, leclerc & reeader are besties, open ending??? maybe???
fc: none!
wc: 4.4K
current | part 2 | part 3
Formula Ivy Academy was the most renowned private school tucked away in Monaco for the brightest people. Whether that was inventors, politicians, artists, thinkers, or athletes was anybody’s guess since FIA was very hush hush about what happens behind their walls. Which, in theory, should be the first sign not to get involved with a school like that. With the amount of money, fame, and reputation of how secretive this academy was, why the hell would anybody want to go there?
Well, anybody who wanted to be anybody, obviously.
Everybody and anybody tried to get in. Thousands of applications went in every semester. Most applications that were submitted were from those that came from wealth that expanded to celebrities and even royalty applied and were rejected.
The rest of the world only dreamed of going there and some had the balls to apply though they knew that they would be rejected. They didn’t have the funds to cover even a quarter of the tuition cost. The only way most people would be able to get in was on a full ride scholarship and according to rumors, full ride scholarships to FIA was like winning the lottery. A one in a million chance for most people. It seemed that FIA was painfully selective about who they let in.
Yet, you were that one in a million person who got accepted into FIA with a full ride.
“Who is she?”
“I think that’s the new girl.”
“Really? She’s really pretty, how come she’s never been here before?”
“Rumor is she’s not from wealth.”
A few gasps erupted, “What?! How did she get in?”
“Full. Ride.” There were some murmurs, “apparently she was valedictorian at her high school and she applied and the school was impressed. She has to keep her GPA at least a 3.5 to keep her scholarship and,” there was a pause and throat cleaning, “she needs it if she’s going to stay.”
You roll your eyes hearing these girls before shaking your head. Casting your gaze at them the group quickly realized that they were talking much louder than attended and quickly scattered. You sigh softly while shaking your head because it was tiring.
You’ve been listening to the whispers and murmurs about yourself for almost a month straight since moving into the dorms back in August. The only places you found peace was in your dorm, since FIA had been so nice to accommodate you with a single room dorm so you can avoid that whole roommate thing, and the vast walls of the library but alas, instead you found yourself walking through campus as more people look and whisper.
You’re cutting through the green to get to your dorm building when a larger pair of Jordan clad feet fell into step besides yours. The pace was deliberate and rhythmic to match yours. You didn’t have to look over to know who it was. You stayed silent and forced your neck to look the other way though it’s no use. Everyone is looking at you and the new found walking partner though when you met their gaze they looked away. You let out a silent huff before craning your neck like a flower turning to the sun but the sun was actually the most annoying boy to ever roam campus who was 1 of FIA’s 20 star athletes and apparently, you’re upstairs neighbor that you try to avoid the best you can. He’s smiling, curly hair unruly, green and white jersey with his lucky ‘4’ on the front and his iconic gray sweatpants.
“Well, if it isn’t ‘Miss Popular’. You know I was getting a bit worried that you had already left before I got the chance to really know you.”
“First off, don’t call me ‘Miss Popular’ because I’m not,” you roll your eyes, “second you can’t get me to leave that fast. I’m sure the whispers and rumors about me are going to die down rather fast considering I think people are realizing that there really isn’t a lot going for me.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I don’t have wealth like that nor do I care. I’m here to get my degree, make connections, and get a head start on my career and I plan to make sure that happens,” you glance at Lando then forward again, “There’s not much to me.” You shrug as you enter the building and you head down your hall towards your room.
“Bullshit.”
You scoff and look over at Lando, “excuse me?”
“I said bullshit. I don’t think that’s the real reason you’re here.” Lando stares down at you, “I doubt you’re just some random insanely smart person who got in with an amazing application. Celebrities and even royalties themselves get rejected but they let you in? Full ride? Just because they like you?” He scoffs. “But fine. Let’s go with that story but I highly fucking doubt that you’re going to keep your head down and just mind your business for the next four years. There’s a lot that happens here at FIA, a lot that would be rather dangerous if it got out. A lot of reputations on the line.” Holding out a stack of cash, “Maybe it would be for the best if you left, don’t you think?”
You stare at Lando in disbelief. Lando’s known as one of the friendliest athletes on campus. He’s always smiling and laughing and making everyone feel welcomed. Even you, the rare times you spoke before this moment but it became crystal clear in this moment that it was nothing more than a ruse to bribe you out of this school and this life. For what? Protecting the students' reputations? You could care less about your classmates and what they do in their spare time. It was none of your business and honestly you probably would forget about most of them and any scandalizing thing they do now.
But Lando wouldn’t believe that and it upset you more because it made sense. You were a nobody who got accepted into the most renowned school that was super selective. Everyone here had three things: money, power, and secrets. You have none of those. You are just a simple person with a simple life that really just wanted to further your education and make a better life for yourself so you didn’t have to worry when you grew older. Pay your parents back for all the sacrifices they made for you. Give back to your friends who saved you when you were drowning…or jumped in so you weren’t drowning alone. Unlike everyone else who had everything to lose and nothing really to gain, you had nothing to lose and everything to gain.
You stare at the stack of cash in Lando’s hand trying to mentally count how much was there, “How much—”
“100,000 in USD,” Lando finishes, “more than enough for you I’m sure. Unless you want me to just pay for whatever school you transfer to, I can do that as well.”
“No, no, the cash is fine—”
Lando smiles wider, “I th—”
You reach out for the money before slamming your hand down. The bills go everywhere as they fall from Lando’s hand and the Brit is stunned. His eyes widen as he stares at you in pure shock before his face darkens.
“IF I was shallow and had no self respect,” you snap back, “how dare you try to bribe me? You probably wouldn’t believe this but I actually do not give a single care about you or any other student on this campus. All you guys care about is your fame, your wealth, and the carefree lifestyles that you all get to have. Unlike you all, I actually have to work for my shit and I will continue doing that. I don’t have time to collect evidence of all these scandals and sell them to news outlets. Besides, I need connections so the last thing I want to do is ruin that chance by breaking the number one unofficial rule of FIA which is what happens within FIA walls stays within FIA walls. What do you take me for? A shallow tool?” Looking Lando up and down, you sneer slightly, “You know what you can do for me, Lando?”
“What?” The Brit snaps.
“You can take your cash and shove it up your fucking ass right along with the lacrosse stick that’s been wedge up there,” you give him a mocking smile, “have the day you deserve.” You turn, flipping Lando off as you continue down the hall before going into your dorm, slamming it behind you. Finally, tears spill past and you clamp a hand around your mouth to silence your cries. You stumble to your bed, vision blurry before crumbling against it, hiding your face into your comfort, sobbing as the weight of Lando’s words settles.
Nobody wants you here. Nobody trusts you nor likes you. To them, you’re nothing more than an outsider who was going to ruin all their reputations. Obviously, someone like you just could not be here to further your education and take this chance to connect and get a huge head start down your career path. That was all just some ruse to really make a quick buck off the rich and their bullshit drama. That you will never be accepted by them and you should quit while you’re ahead. Another sob rips out of your throat as you bury your face further, body shaking, trying so hard to will yourself to stop crying but it was so hard as a month worth of worry and pains had manifested as the cold hard truth and the reality was heartbreaking.
Then it dawned on you. It wasn’t bullshit. What was bullshit was the fact Lando thought you were so shallow. Actually, it was bullshit the entire campus thought you were that shallow. Are they so self absorbed that they really assumed you had applied just to expose what goes on behind the walls of FIA? God, you needed money but you weren’t that desperate for money. Unlike them, you actually gave a fuck about what you wanted to do in life. Especially because you were happily picking something that wouldn’t be destroyed so easily by mere rumors or a single photo to destroy your entire reputation. You didn’t care how much you got to gain to expose all of them, especially Lando after that lovely chat, because that’s what they expected of you. Instead, you were going to completely ignore them. Prove them wrong. Prove Lando wrong.
Settling, you sit there for a bit before slowly lifting your head. You ignore the oncoming headache or the fact your face is wet and puffy. You sniffle softly before patting yourself down and pull your phone out with slightly shaky hands. Arthur Leclerc was a rare friend you had. Well, you assume anyway but now you weren’t sure as you text him.
Do you hate me?-YN
Y/N, how many times do I have to tell you that I don’t hate you. Nor does Mick, Ollie, Kimi, or Charlie.-AL
Well, Lando just tried to give me 100K in USD to get me to leave the school since everyone hates me and nobody trusts me and that I’m here to expose everyone for money and not for my education and to get a head start of my career.-YN
…He fucking did what?-AL
Yeah.-YN
Oh my god. I’m going to punch him at practice. Actually, I have piano so I won’t be at practice—I’ll have Charlie do it. No, he won’t—Kimi will-AL
No-YN
Don’t ‘no’ me! Y/N! You just told me that Lando bribed you because the rest of the school doesn’t trust you for some stupid fucking reason! Also, I know that you were actually warming up to Lando for this to be the reason? Oh god I should tell the couch! I’m going to tell coach—AL
No. No, I don’t need any more issues than already. I just…I just need reassure that you actually like for who I am-YN
Of course I do Y/N. Me, Charlie, Mick, Ollie. We adore you. You’re a breath of fresh air to us, really. You remind us that not everyone is stuck up and snooty and loves to be careless and wild because money and fame will save them. You remind us to slow down and enjoy the moments. You remind us to do things that we love even if nobody else cares because we enjoy the things we love. I promise, we wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world.AL
Arthur…that’s so sweet I might cry again but I won’t.-YN
It’s okay to cry!! I can come over with ice cream and blankets for cuddles-AL
No no, it’s fine. I don’t think I have any tears left. I kind of let out a month’s worth of sadness just out, so, I’m good but I might take you up on the offer for ice cream and blankets after your piano practice-YN
Okay, yeah. God Y/N. I’m so sorry this happened to you.-AL
It’s fine. I’m kind of upset Lando did this privately because the look of shock on his face when I smacked the money out of his hand was priceless.-YN
You WHAT?! Oh my god! You didn’t tell me that!!!-AL
Yeah well, I’m done being sad. I’m angry now.-YN
Anyway, yeah he basically found me. Walked me to the dorms asking if I was avoiding him and stuff. I had said that I just wanna focus on my education and get a jump start at my career and he literally was like ‘bullshit’. I was like ummm what?? Yeah so he goes on about how im a threat and all this—me, the nobody but whatever—and he was giving me cash or offering to pay the tuition of the school I would transfer to in full if it meant leaving since I’m just a wee peasant who’s only here to gossip and get paid by the news and get the school shut down. So I was like, “oh no the cash is fine”…-YN
Oh my god. What did he say?-AL
Oh he was gonna go on that I was making the right choice before I smack the money out of his hand. Man he was pissed-YN
I could imagine.-AL
Arthur, when I tell you watching his face darken out of anger was—kinda scary. Though mama ain’t raised a bitch so. I went off about how I can’t believe he thinks I’m shallow and that I truly could care less about my classmates and that I need these connections so why would I risk losing those connections by outing everyone, ya know???-YN
Oh I know.-AL
Thank you! So then I was like “you know what you can do for me” and he was like “what?!” all snappy and shit. I told him he can pick his money up and shove it right up his ass along with his lacrosse stick and have the day he deserves and the I flipped him off as I left…then I broke down and cried and now we’re here-YN
I AM SO PROUD OF YOU FOR THAT!!! AS YOU SHOULD! Oh my god, I am buying you dinner for that because that is amazing. Also, Lando can go fuck himself and I will personally make sure it happens at practice.-AL
Arthur!-YN
It’s fine! I already laid out that Charles is just to make Lando go a bit insane. No physical harm, all mental.-AL
…Fine. Only because there’s no way I can convince either of you to not do anything-YN
You’re learning! Okay, I have to run but I will see you later tonight. You don’t have to, considering how news gets out around here but, Charlie would like to see you at some point just to make sure you’re okay so, just show a sign of life to him? Please? I’ll cover the ice-cream if you do-AL
I will, promise.-YN
Alright, see you see y/n!-AL
You too, Arthur.-YN
It’s only been 20 minutes since your conversation with Arthur and you really didn’t want to leave your dorm let alone the field after everything that happened. You had finally found the energy to climb into bed curled up under the comfort while staring at the wall before frowning. You know that if you didn’t Charles would go insane with worry and blow up both your phone and Arthur’s and you really didn’t want to upset the only rare few people in your corner. Sighing, you force yourself out of your bed and go through your closet.
The school had uniforms that students must wear to classes. Outside of classes, students were free to wear whatever they wanted and you chose a baggy hoodie with a t-shirt underneath and fuzzy pajama pants that had snoopy all over them. Sliding your crocs on, you grabbed your keys, phone, headphones, and lanyard with your ID before heading out of your dorm and to the field. Putting your headphones on, you gently bobbed your head to the beat of the music as you crossed the green towards the field. Seeing the empty bleachers, you make your way up the ramp as you look out at the field.
There were the two lacrosse nets at the opposite ends of the field. The boys were lingering around the benches as they all chatted among themselves with five minutes to spare in this break. You scan among them, thankful that none of them spotted you. Expect the one that was sitting on the bench away, staring at a small group down. You saw the ‘16’ on the jersey and knew exactly who it was. You straightened up slightly when the player turned and saw you before lighting up like a child on Christmas and scrambling over to you, almost tripping over his own two feet.
“Mon chérie, there you are. I was worried you weren’t going to show that I was about to start calling for a sign of life,” Charles grins as he stands below the bleachers laughing softly. You can’t help the small smile that appears on your face as you lean over the edge of the bleachers looking down at Charles.
“Sorry, I was just—gathering myself.”
“I could imagine,” Charles frowns. “I truly am sorry that happened to you,” Charles whispers. “Just say the words and I will tell the coach or I can punch him. Really, I am angry enough to go through with it.”
“No you don’t have to punch him or tell coach,” you reassure Charles, “I think me slapping the money out of his hand, telling him off, telling him to shove the money up his ass, and flipping him off while telling him to have the day he deserves is probably enough.” You smile, “besides, I have no plans on transferring at all. Especially not after this. Him having to see my face should be enough of a hell for him.”
Charles laughs breathlessly while smiling up at you, “You truly are something else Y/N.” He grins while shaking his head, “Arthur mentioned something about ice-cream and blankets?” He questions.
You go to answer but feel someone just staring at you. Casting your gaze up you lock eyes with the sea green eyes staring at you. It seems that you and Lando are in a stare off that neither of you intend to lose but you only forfeit when you hear Charles scoff below you. “Charles,” you murmur softly and Charles looks up at you, a slight pout on his face, “please be nice so you can join Arthur and I and probably the others for ice-cream and cuddles. That’s what we mean by blankets.”
Charles gasps softly, “and I can join?!”
“If,” you start, “you leave Lando alone.”
Charles narrows his eyes at you and weighs his options, “okay, deal.”
“Leclerc!” Lando shouts, voice clipped, “lets go! No more talking!”
“Duty calls,” Charles murmurs and you shake your head, murmuring to Charles that it’ll be fine. You sit in the stands and switch between watching the practice and looking at your phone. You stand up when the coach blows the whistle to have the team come in to wrap practice up. You make your way off the bleachers and linger at the entrance of track as the team all heads to the bench to gather their things. You watch Charles swiftly grab his water bottle and bag before making his way over to you.
“You did it!” You applaud happily, “you survived practice and didn’t kill him.”
“I know, I know. Took a lot of self control,” Charles murmurs as he steps closer, “I’m pretty sure he was targeting me after seeing me talk to you. The audacity of him, can you believe that?”
“I could, sadly,” you roll your eyes, “he’s an ass. Just ignore him. Why don’t you get change and I’ll wait here and we can then head back to my dorm together?” You offer, “Arthur said he’d bring the ice-cream and Mick would bring the blankets.”
“Okay, I’ll be right out!” Charles says and is off.
You watch him leave and smile slightly before looking away and nearly jumping at Lando who just spawns in front of you. You look up at the Brit and all the emotions from early claw at your throat for an escape. You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to curse him out. You want to ask him why. There are so many questions in your head and you know that no matter what, you won’t get any answers so you settle for this stare off with Lando, even if your neck gets a cramp.
The silence is finally broken by Lando, “What were you talking to Charles about?” His voice is cold and icy. It almost seems uncharacteristic of the Brit but then again, he was full of surprises!
“None of your business.”
“I think it is my business since he’s a teammate of mine and I am also co-captain, so,” he lets his voice trail off as if indicating his importance, “kind of my responsibility to make sure our players are accounted for and safe.”
“Oh? Is it because he’s with me? Cause if you were really concerned, I doubt you nor Max would really be okay with the heavy partying that happens. Then again you two would be hypocritical.” You retort.
That strikes a nerve. He clenches his jaw and stares down at you in anger though he stays silent because he can’t really argue with you. Instead, Lando takes a deep breath while glaring, “well, is coming back to your dorm?”
“Why do you care?”
'“Cause I really don’t need you being so fucking loud and distracting me.”
“Seriously? You’re rarely in your room. When you are, you’re doing anything but homework. The only thing I might give a damn about is your streams for the poor people that watch you.” Crossing your arms over your chest, “but if you need to know since apparently hell has frozen over with you doing homework, I am having a few guests over and Charles is one.”
“Who else?”
“You don’t get names,” you snap. “First off, it’s not your business. Second, you don’t care because I’m just a nobody who’s here to gather intel and sell the secrets and make so money and get the school shut down instead of learning more and making connections and wanting a better future for myself since I’m not privileged like that,” you mock before scowling at him, “you think I’m dumb? No way am I giving out the names of the few genuine friends I have here.”
Lando goes to argue before Charles cuts in, loud and clear, “Oh mon chérie!” Charles stops next to you and glares at Lando who glares back at you, “Oh. Am I interrupting something?”
“Yes. You are.”
“No, you’re fine.”
You and Lando stare at each other before you turn to Charles who slings an arm over your shoulder, “Ready to go then?” Charles asks you, smiling and you nod. “I am.”
“Well. Have a good evening, Lando,” Charles tells him as you just turn and start walking off, leading Charles with you.
Your gut twists and you can’t help yourself even with Charles talking your ear off since you stopped so Charles could tie his shoe. You’re about to look back at Lando until Charles tells some stupid story which gets you to laugh loudly and you nudge Charles when he stands saying that it was a good story.
You hear a thud or something which gets you to turn.
Lando is standing there holding with his head of the lacrosse stick now snapped off. He’s got Max and Oscar on either side of him both concerned and worried while trying to talk to him but Lando is staring at Charles as if he’s trying to strike Charles down mentally before finally looking at you before. He stares at you for a moment before looking at Charles and scowling before turning sharply and heading to the locker room with Max and Oscar trying to figure out what the hell just happened before following Lando.
You stand there watching the trio head off. Your eyes fall on the broken lacrosse stick head. You can’t wrap your head around why Lando was so determined to figure out who was hanging out with you. Was it to turn the little friends against you? Was he just upset that you weren’t bending to his will and made a fool of him earlier today? Why was he like this
“Y/N?”
“Hm?”
“Are you okay?” Charles asks softly.
“Yeah, yeah,” you shake your head and smile, “I’m okay. Just…distracted, that’s all. Come on! I’ll race you,” you start and take off, giving yourself a head start as Charles is cursing and scrambling after you.
Even if Lando wanted you to leave and threw the world’s biggest tantrum as it seemed, you were quite comfortable staying here since you added a new life goal to your plans. It was a very simple life goal.
Make Lando’s regret trying to bribe you.
#starlight library presents;#Rich Boys Don't Have Hearts#RBDHH#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#jock!lando norris x nerd!reader#jock!lando norris#jock!lando norris imagine#ln4 x y/n#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader#jock!ln4#jock!ln4 x nerd!reader#jock!ln4 imagine#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#startlight library navigation#reader + leclerc = besties#oh god#what did i write???#ummm
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
HOW NOT TO DATE A SLYTHERIN
part three of five
↬ being harry potter's sister wouldn't make dating theodore nott any easier - which was why you tried to hide it. only, theo was starting to get reckless with your secret.
↬ sfw; angst + hurt/comfort; wc: 3.0k; cw: none; secret relationship trope, potter!reader, griffindor! reader
thank you for all the supportive comments! wait for part four for the big showdown...
( masterlist )
The streets of Hogsmeade were blanketed in a soft layer of snow, the air filled with the mingling scents of spiced cider and chocolate wafting from the shops. You tugged your scarf tighter against the biting wind, walking beside Harry while Ron and Hermoine trailed just behind, arguing about the practicality of enchanted earmuffs. The (way too) early christmas decorations hung from every storefront, casting warm, golden light onto the snow-covered cobblestones, and the faint sounds of caroling witches and wizards drifted down from somewhere near the Three Broomsticks.
“Can we stop at Honeydukes before we head back?” Ron asked, cutting off a string of heated reasons for her argument by Hermoine who glared at him darkly. “Honestly, Ron, that is your biggest concern? Buying chocolate frogs?”
Sharing a glance, both you and Harry rolled your eyes at their bickering. You chose to defend Ron, partly because if he hadn't proposed the trip to Honeydukes, you’d have. “It’s a valid concern. Not everyone can survive on determination and revision schedules, Hermione.”
The only response you received was a long sigh, audible even over the whistling wind. When a particularly strong squall almost knocked him against a house front, Harry cursed, glowering at the restless sky. “If the weather stays the same ‘til tomorrow's game, we’ll be knocked off our brooms before we can make Malfoy lose.”
Now it was your turn to roll your eyes at him. “Don't you mean, before we can win? Honestly, Harry, I think you’re approaching this very unproductively.” Ruffling a hand through his unruly hair, you smiled at his grim huff. “On the other hand, if petty hostility makes you fly better-”
“You’ve done this a lot lately,” Ron cut you off, earning another pissed look by Hermoine. “Defending them snakes.”
You had? Not that you had noticed, but yes, you may have subconsciously been a little defensive when your friends had badmouthed the Slytherins, seeing as you were dating one of the most sensitive and thoughtful people you knew, who happened to also be a Slytherin. “I am merely advocating for proportionality,” you mumbled, but your voice was picked up by a gust of wind, carried to the wrong ears.
You heard them before you saw them- a drawled out voice from behind, having the four of you turn on your heels. “Advocating for proportionality, are you, Potter? How very noble. I’m sure the world is thrilled to hear another Potter lecture.” A large group of Slytherins had been approaching from behind, unnoticed by all of you. Though shielded by green-bronze scarfs, you could make out the faces of your Slytherin classmates, as well as some sixth years. Flickering over the group, your eyes found Theo's and they locked in silent understanding. If you weren't mistaken, he gave you a little wink, but that might just as well have been a product of your imagination.
“That's rich,” Harry snarled back, ignoring your tugging at his robes to keep going. “Coming from you, Malfoy, who loves to hear himself talk so much he gets himself friends as silent listeners that applaud everything he says!”
Sensing an approaching conflict, you quickly counted the heads of the Slytherin group- you were looking at a four to ten ratio.
Red shot up into Malfoy’s cheeks and you caught a movement of his hand, sliding towards his wand. “Better be careful talking like that, Potter, didn't your parents ever reach you not to pick fights when you’re outmatched? Oh, wait,” he laughed gloatingly and you buried your hands in your brother’s robe in a preventive manner. “Guess they didn't have the chance before they were blown to bits!”
But your warning glare didn't only fix Harry, you had caught a dangerous look in Theo’s eyes as well. As if he had felt his eyes on you, he returned your gaze and his expression softened slightly. You breathed a sigh of relief. Crisis averted.
“LISTEN HERE, YOU TWAT!” Ron bellowed from next to you, shaking his clenched fists. Both you and Hermoine shot forward to hold him back, but you made the fatal mistake of letting go of your livid brother, who barged at Malfoy, not even bothering to pull out his wand. His fist collided with his face the moment Ron followed hot on his heels, tackling a surprised Zabini.
“Merlin,” Hermoine muttered and pulled out her wand. Neither of you got to join in the brawl, though, because a very exasperated Theo had strode forward, separated Blaise and Ron and jinxed both Drace and Harry in one move, making both of them jump back and stumble. Some of his friends groaned at him, deprived of the easy victory, but his infamous death glare brought upon them silence in an instant.
Before they could cause any more trouble, you ushered Ron and Harry back on their feet with Hermoine's help, hastily steering them away from the group.
“Hey, Potter!”
Both you and Harry turned around, but the Slytherin sixth year that had spoken was looking at you. “Spare us the moral superiority in the future. You’re as self-absorbed as your little Gryffindor gang. The way you talk, it’s no wonder you don’t have many friends outside Gryffindor. Who could stand you?”
Ouch.
The hurt must have been visible in your features for a second, because his friends howled and patted his shoulder in appreciation. Harry tensed under your grip, but you tightened it and pulled him along as you walked away, Hermoine and Ron hot on your heels.
The whistles and cackles of the group followed you all the way to Honeydukes. Neither of you spoke, Harry seemed to be fuming and you didn't dare say anything to set him off.
“Are you even listening to me?”
You weren't, and you looked at Hermoine apologetically. Instead of listening to whatever your friend had to say, your gaze had gotten lost somewhere at the Slytherin table. Particularly fixed on the dark haired boy in between Riddle and Malfoy, with the face of a brooding storm. Even from the far end of the great hall, you knew the expression as not simply his moodiness but simmering anger, meticulously controlled.
“I’m sorry,” you said sincerely and fixed your attention on Hermoine. “What were you saying?”
Sighing, Hermoine flipped open the evening edition of the daily prophet. Some snowflakes were still caught up in her hair, relics of your visit to Hogsmeade. “You’re awfully distracted. Is it because of what that idiot Langley said?”
“Who?” you asked, even though you knew exactly who she meant. His comment had hurt you, but it was nothing you wouldn't get over. No, what held your attention in a vice-like grip that felt oh so gentle was your dear secret boyfriend who, at this exact moment, rose from his seat at the Slytherin table, undoubtedly going for a smoke to the astronomy tower.
Hermoine passed your question over, opting to pretend to read the newspaper as you could feel her careful eyes on you. “He’s in the hospital wing, you know? Langley, I mean.”
“Did he choke on his spite?” You asked absentmindedly, swirling your fork through your soup as your eyes followed Theo leaving the Great Hall. The elegance of his long strides, his upright posture, the bounce of his dark curls. It was probably as good a time as ever to realize that you were utterly and irreversibly in love with that man.
“He got hexed, nobody knows by whom. But they contemplated sending him to St. Mungos, seems like he was hexed within an inch of his life,” Hermoine explained and a realization dawned on you. An image flashed before your waking eye- Theo's expression when you had shoved Harry away. You did believe him capable of hexing Langley into St. Mungos. But you also believed him capable of a high level of intelligence that was missing from this situation.
“Was he?” you asked in a neutral voice and Hermoine nodded, no longer pretending to be interested in the newspaper. “Rumor has it that Nott hexed him, but no eye witnesses have confirmed it to the teachers. Too scared of him and his friends, probably.”
You gave up on your fruitless attempts to transport the soup to your mouth. Abruptly, you stood up and shouldered your bag with a little more force than necessary. “I think I’m going to head to the astronomy tower, I still need to finish some star charts for Professor Sinistra.”
The heavy wooden door of the astronomy tower slammed open when you marched through forcefully, the sound echoing through the chilly, starlit space. Theo didn't flinch as you slammed your bag onto the ground. He was, of course, already there, leaning against the stone wall, cigarette perched between his fingers, the ember glowing faintly in the dark. It illuminated his face that was calm, almost indifferent. But the sharp line of his jaw gave him away. He’d been waiting for this.
“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” you snapped, marching toward him with a heaving chest, partly from your run up the stairs, partly of fury. “What were you thinking, hexing Langley in broad daylight, in front of half the school if you can believe the rumors? Are you trying to get us caught?”
Theo exhaled slowly, smoke curling around his face like a shield. “You’re welcome, by the way,” he said, voice low and infuriatingly composed. “That guy deserved worse for what he said to you.”
You’d be lying if his dangerous dark eyes and the gravely tone of his voice didn't do something for you, paired with the fact that he had sent someone to the Hospital wing for you. But that wasn't the point right now. “You were reckless, Theo. What will your friends think? That you just snapped on a whim and decided to hospitalize the guy you hung out with?”
“They’ll trust that I have my reasons,” Theo said smoothly, making not attempts to step closer to your heaving form or meet your eye.
“And what if they believe that reason is me?” you challenged him. When he looked up, your eyes locked and the intensity of his gaze knocked the breath right out of your lungs.
“Then they do,” he simply said, making you gasp in protest. With a flick of his wrist, golden embers rained from his cigarette. “It would not be the end of the world. You wouldn't care, would you?” His gaze grew sharper and you felt utterly disarmed. “You only care that your brother and your Griffindor friends don't find out you’re dating a Slytherin.”
“I know where you’re going with this,” you pressed through pursed lips. “And it's not fair. If you were ready to admit to everyone you’re seeing the Chosen One’s sister, you’d already have.”
The force with which Theo stepped forward caught you off guard. Stopping in front of you, he leaned down and a cloud of smoke pulled you in. “I’ll do it,” he whispered to you, watching your reaction closely. “I’ll go right now and shout it from the fucking rooftops.” Crooking his head, he took a step back. “But you wouldn't want that, would you?”
You didn't answer, because you knew he was right. It was you who was trying to keep this relationship quiet, but it wasn't like you didn't have your reasons. One of them being how your friends would react, sure, but since Theo’s father was a death eater, the Order could see you as a liability as well.
Theo called your name and as if on command, you looked up at him. The cigarette lay glowing on the floor, he hadn't even bothered to smother the embers with his boot. “Are you ashamed of me?” There was a guarded vulnerability in his voice. So rare that you could do nothing but stare at him for a few seconds. Theo waited patiently, but he watched every little change of expression.
“I’m not,” you finally managed to say after you found your voice. You took a pleading step towards him, but he took one back as if on chance. “Are you sure?” he asked and a hint of bitterness laced his composed voice. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re fine with me being your dirty little secret.”
“You’re- you’re not-,” you stammered, your insides were squeezing painfully with the look he gave you. “Theo, you have to understand my situation here! I mean, you didn't even attempt to! You don’t understand what it’s like, Theo. I can’t just… parade this around. Harry, Ron, Hermione-they’d never let it go. And don’t get me started on the rest of Gryffindor!”
A humorless laugh escaped his throat. “You’re an idiot.” Flinching at his tone, you took a step back, but he stalked towards you predatorily. “Do you think you’re the only one who is under pressure here? Last time I checked, the people you answer to aren't ruthless murderers.”
He was right, you knew he was right. But there was a small, defiant part of you that just didn't want to accept it. “Just because you’re ready to tell them doesn't mean I am. They all see me as this perfect girl. I don’t get to make mistakes.”
This goddamn raised eyebrow that managed to stun anyone to silence appeared on his beautiful face. “And I’m the mistake, is that it? Great to know where I stand, Potter.”
“I didn't say that!” you protested, running your hands through your hair in frustration. Theo smiled bitterly. “You didn’t have to. You’d rather keep this quiet, pretend it’s not happening, because being with me doesn’t fit your perfect Gryffindor image.”
Anger started to bubble up in your chest once more and you clenched your fists, infuriated by his seemingly indifferent calm. “You think this is easy for me? Sneaking around, lying to my friends? If they found out about us, they’d never trust me again!” Your breath got caught in your throat as your voice grew quiet. “You don’t get it, Theo. I can’t afford to mess this up. People expect me to be perfect, and being with you… it’s not the safe choice. But it’s my choice, okay? Doesn’t that mean something?”
With an abrupt turn, Theo walked towards the railing and turned his back to you. A ruffle, a click, a soft golden glow and finally, a cloud of smoke rising from his figure as if he was burning from the inside. His voice was so hushed you had trouble understanding it, drawing closer but still keeping your distance. “You know, for someone so stubborn, you’re really bad at fighting with me.”
“That’s because I don’t want to fight with you.” you said imploringly, taking tentative steps toward him. Though he most certainly noticed even the most quiet of sounds, he didn't turn around. A long sigh left Theo’s lips and a large puff of smoke rose up to the stars. “Neither do I.”
“I’m sorry, okay?” you asked, fiddling with your fingers. “I know I’m not handling this the way you deserve.”
Finally, Theo turned around to you and you were taken aback by the sudden vulnerability in his expression. Theo’s features were often closed off, hard to read, unmovable. But now, his eyes were heavy with emotion- a mix of regret and sadness, though a light smile played along his lips. “I’m not asking for perfect. I’m just asking for you to … trust me.”
You closed the distance between you and Theo exhaled the last puff of smoke into the chilly night air before he stepped on his cigarette. His arms reached for you and you almost threw yourself into them. You hated fighting. Once around you, his hold tightened and you felt your face pressed up against his warm chest. The tremble of an exhale left your lips as you closed your eyes and relaxed in his hold. “I do, Theo. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. I wouldn’t be doing this- any of this- if I didn’t think you were worth it.”
You only got a soft rumble of his chest in response. His smell surrounded you, clouded you, and you thought to yourself you might get addicted to cigarettes if he kept smelling like them. “This might be a bad time for stuff like that, but… I've never felt like this about anyone.”
When you lifted your head from his chest, you found him already looking at you. And you had to appreciate how he must have turned down every wall he had so carefully constructed around himself to look at you with such a raw expression. “Me neither,” he almost breathed, locking your fingers. He shook his head disapprovingly. “Tesoro, your hands are ice bricks.”
“Why don't you kiss them better, then?” you asked hopefully, relieved to see a smile appear on his face. Theo brought your locked hands up to his lips and pressed slow, gentle kisses to the back of your hand. The soft tingle that followed his touch warmed your whole body.
“We’re going to have to actually talk about this, you know.” he said and you nodded slightly.
“I know. Just… not tonight.”
tag list: @annaisabookworm @empath-bunny @k0z3me @slutfordpr @aespaslut @kiarst @the-oracle-at-delphinitely-not @fakem0net @sammyreid @tulipsc @yasmin-oviedo @lazycrazyme
#harry potter#harry potter x reader#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#theo nott#theo nott x reader#theo nott x you#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x you
703 notes
·
View notes
Text
Make You
Billie Eilish x female reader !
A/n: first fic for my lil kinktober ... tanntober? No that's stupid everyone else's sounds cute mine sounds busted 🥰 anyways PLEASE ENJOY 😈
Summary: you hated eachother.. so it seemed.
Warnings: smut, hate sex ?, bondage, rough Billie, fingering.
Masterlist - Halloween ML
I hate you...
Yeah. Turns me on
You were really good friends with Finneas and Claudia. So you were around quite a bit. And tonight was another small party at theirs, they'd often have a tiny one with the friend group plus some others. So you ofcourse knew Billie. Did you two get along? Nope, and here's why.
For some reason when you first became friends with them Billie was iffy about you. You had become friends with Claudia first, then Finneas. And suddenly you were around all the time. You were always so kind with everyone, and it seemed to bother her. She actually had no idea why she didn't like you she just didn't. Then you'd get brought up by one of them, and that started to bug her.
She was working with Finneas on some music, they were taking a break. "Y/n took this cute photo of peaches last night! She's actually good at photography-" Billies eyes roll. "Can we get back to this, please?" He stares at her. "What's your problem with her, shes so kind to you and lately you've been rude even to her face. Like fine do what you want or say what you want to me, but the poor girls done absolutely nothing to you." - "Yeah well she bugs me. How did you even meet her she kinda just spawned." He sets the mic he had in hand, down.
"Claudia was taking a pilates class and Y/n happened to be there and they got talking. Found out she lived quite close by, got to know her better and she was really sweet." Billie was getting tired of hearing about you. "We don't know what her intentions are." "Billie." She just shrugs. "What! She could be after you or something, she was getting cozy with you the other day I saw. Maybe she's going to break you and Claudia up!" Finneas looks at her like she's insane. "You really need to get to know her better. She's most definitely not after me." Her brows furrow. "And how do you know that?"
"Shes gay Billie, full blown lesbian. If anything she'd be interested in Claudia, but she isn't because she's just a decent human being, something you're kinda lacking at the moment." Maybe she was being quite over the top. She still hated you. But she might of been starting to realize why. Especially when she heard you were into girls. There was no doubt you were beautiful, too beautiful for words. When Billie was giving you dirty looks all the time she actually wasn't, in her mind she was thinking how effortlessly pretty you were. Maybe those things bugged her more so than the reason she claims to hate you for. Maybe she actually liked you but used the hatred method to get over it.
Regardless she still 'hated' you. And tonight you couldn't take it anymore. You had arrived early as usual, carrying a bag of supplies. "You didn't have to do that!" Claudia smiles at the girl. "Ofcourse i did! You know how much I love helping out." - "Ugh you're an angel." She says, helping you bring it in. Billie was there too and she couldn't help rolling her eyes, you being some perfect angel, she didn't believe it still. Even if the true reason was right infront of her. You on the other hand, had really liked Billie at first. She was gorgeous, she was talented and you admired her deeply.
That was until you found out she hated you, you kinda picked up on it with the looks and the snide comments. You tried to ignore it, saying that maybe she's just going through something. But that's just who you were, you'd always give people the benefit of the doubt. But you were strong you could handle people who mocked and criticized you when you had to. You stood up for yourself. And you sure as hell did tonight.
People started coming in the small house, crowding it ever so slightly. You had a drink in hand talking with some mutual friends you had made in the past year of knowing Finn and Claud. But you felt eyes on you. Not admiring ones, deadly ones. You turn to see it was ofcourse Billie. You wanted to ignore it but the drink was telling you to do the exact opposite. You excuse yourself from the conversation you were currently in and approach her on the couch. You never really talked to her, nor tried to. You got the impression it was pointless.
"Can we talk?" You ask so sweetly, you never had any bad intentions. But oh God she just wanted to rip that soft voice out of you. On the other hand she was a little shocked you'd even speak to her, she reluctantly said sure. Very nonchalantly, shrugging at the same time. She gets up and follows you to a quieter area. "Have I done something?" You finally ask, after months of knowing her, after months of her being crude. Yet another shrug. This wasn't going to be easy at all. "Well it sure seems as if I have, can I fix it?"
All you wanted was to be friends with people, never enemies. "Why are you so hell bent on making things perfect all the time." She finally snaps. "Billie-" "I swear you come in this house being all 'look at me I'm wonderful' When i doubt that's truly the case." You stare at her in disbelief. Finn had told you about Billie being off about you. But you never realized just how much. You swallow, unable to process her harsh words. "Well. If that's how you feel." She soon after nods. "Yup." You just scoff slightly. "Wow. Glad to know where I stand with you." Your feet go to move, when you then hear her speak.
"Hopefully really far away." The response was cold. You could feel your throat tightening, and honestly wanting to cry. But you weren't going to give her that satisfaction. "You're a bitch." You breathe out. "Right back at you." All you could think of was getting the hell out of there. You brush past people, Finneas being one of them. "Woah woah- where are you going?" His bewildered look made you sigh. "Ask your sister." You speak bluntly. Leaving after that. His brows furrow, on his way looking for her. Once he finds her he strides over. "What the fuck Billie." Eyes roll. Again.
"Oh what, did she come crying to you like a God damn baby? She came to me, I didn't start it." His head lowers, shaking it. "Jesus Billie, no she didn't come crying to me, she whooshed past heading for the door, she most definitely looked upset though. Why? Why have you got such a hatred for her for fuck sakes?" She just looks at her brother. "I dunno." He laughs slightly. "I do." Her brow raises, the left one. "Enlighten me." "You like her, but you can never deal with your feelings properly so you're pushing her away before you can fall too deep for her." Silence.
He knew her better than she knew herself, but it was true. The first time she ever did see you. Her heart was melting but she had to stop it. Maybe because of situations in the past, but she was too far into the hatred. She was genuinely believing she hated you. Even though it was a lie. "Whatever, I don't care. She started it." "No. You did, this would've never even happened if you hadn't grown this disliking bull shit. It's stupid." That was the last thing said before he leaves, Billie standing there not knowing what to do.
Nothing changed. Not even after Finneas scolded her. If anything the hatred grew, larger, causing you to hate her in the process. It was silly, but it happened. It was yet again another party, Claudia's brand had a new big release, so they were throwing a bit of a celebration. She had a small one two days ago, but decided a more boozey one would be fun. And it was at first, you were enjoying yourself. Dancing with a mutual friend, this one girl you had grown to like, Ava. A closer friend of Claudia's. She was always so bubbly and out there you loved it. Music was blasting, crowds of people. More so than the usual parties they'd throw.
A few drinks down and all you wanted to do was dance, Ava seemed to be on the same page, extending her hand out for you to grab. "Dance?" You smiled. "I thought you'd never ask!" You say loud enough over the booming music. Huge smiles were on both of your faces, but you couldn't help feeling the opposite shooting daggers into the back of your head. You sensed something. So instinctively you turn around, seeing none other than Billie. This time your eyes roll. You were so incredibly sick of her childishness. It was getting pathetic.
Your attention is soon back on Ava as her hands move to your waist, it was flirty. The whole situation. You hadn't realized Billies stare changed considering you weren't paying her any mind. It progressed into jealousy. She didn't ever want to admit that but it was true. That should be her, but she's gone too far. Screwed up too much to the point where you hated her guts. Only because she falsely hated you. It was all her dumbass fault. After a few songs you go upstairs to find the bathroom, stumbling just slightly.
Thankfully if you ever drunk too much they let you crash at theirs. Always. You were like family to them, more so Claudia. Both of your bonds were incredibly close. You come back out, but unpleasantly you met those stupid eyes. Ones that were beautiful, but attached to the person who drove you mental. Potentially in many ways..
"What do you want." - "You into her or something?" You glare at her. "Excuse me?" She presses her weight on her right leg. "Ava, she was getting quite close to you earlier." A scoff was heard from you. "Why on earth do you care. Might I mention all of a sudden, when you normally want to 'stay far away' from me." There was a slight pause, was she thinking of a response. Your eyes roll as you go to brush past her but she grabs your wrist. "Do you like her?" You try to pull. "Leave me alone Billie. Your presence is already pissing me off." She lets out a dry laugh. "Trust me, princess. Yours isn't liked a whole lot either. Don't get a big head." You wanted to scream in her face.
She was so infuriating. And even though that name was meant to be mocking you stupidly liked it. You give her one last glare before you're storming down the stairs. Her feet on your trail. You go to Ava and grab her face. "Kiss me." You say sweetly, mixed with a sultry tone. She smirked slightly. "Say no more." And she did just that, attaching her lips onto your own. Billie saw, vividly. If this was a cartoon, you'd surely see steam piping out of her ears. But why? Why on earth did this bother her so much. For someone who didn't give a fuck about you. She sure did seem to care a fuck ton.
After an hour or so you were going back up to the bathroom, making sure everything's still intact. When your wrist is being grabbed. "He!-" Then a hand was slapped against your mouth. "Zip it." Your eyes meet hers in the mirror, your instincts finally kicking in after the initial confusion. You bite her hand making her retract, pushing her back. "What the fuck is wrong with you. Do tell cuz I'm getting genuinely sick of this shit." She laughs in your face. It was cold and mocking. Just like all the other times before. "You're just a spoilt bitch you know that." Your eyes roll but she grabs your jaw. "You love rolling your eyes huh."
You push her off of you, again. "What? you're the only one who can?" - "Smart mouth." She says.
"Fucking dick." You stare at one another for a second, something shifted in the air. Something different. She slowly backs you up against the sink. No words to be said, just actions. Her eyes going over your face, eyes, cheeks nose. Lips. Your heart picks up at the current moment. The whole situation being odd. Still no words. Her eyes linger on your lips, hands eventually making contact with your hips. What were you giving in to? It felt like you were. This new found tension. Her face was incredibly close to your own. You hated that you liked this, you hated how she has you currently. You felt weak, weaker than you had been.
"I hate you." You seethed, but it was hushed. Unable to focus on forming the right sentences. "Yeah, turns me on." Your breath hitches in your throat, only visible to your mind. Glad she couldn't see how wound up you are getting. You couldn't take the slight tease. You give into everything. Leaning in to kiss her, it was intense, messy. Hot, like lava. Her hands move over your body as you shift in her touch. "Hate you so much." You say on her lips. "Sure you do." You hum. Resuming the kiss, but hers goes to your chin, jaw. Neck. You breathe out. "Hate you.." - "Just shut up." Her teeth sink into your skin, doing just as she had asked. Your mouth shut tight. Eyes doing the same.
When all of a sudden your back hits the bathroom wall. Her hands grip your wrists and shove them above your head, against the cold brick. Your shocked expression makes her laugh. "I hate you too angel, with a burning passion." Her knee presses hard against your clothed cunt, causing your mouth to fall open with a gasp. "God you make me so angry, but look at you. At the same time I just wanna fuck you senseless. This time your eyes would be rolling for a different reason." "Please." Your voice was moany, whiney. All of the above. You needed this and now. She goes to lock the door, slithering her belt out in the process.
It was her HMHAS one, so it was perfect for what she wanted to do. "Everything off." And in a heartbeat her request was fulfilled. She sighs out, making your thighs clench at how hot it sounded. "Even through all the hate I still wanted you deep down." She admitted, making you swoon for this more. "Need you." She smirks at you, how eager you have become. "Yeah? Turn around, wrists together." How could you possibly deny that. Your back faces her as your arms go behind you. She ties that same belt tightly around them, fastening it in the black lock. You were truly trapped. And she was loving it.
"You gotta stay quiet though, can't have anyone know what we are up to can we?" You look at her. "What, wouldn't want people hearing that you don't actually hate me?" Your breath soon gets caught as she grabs the end of the belt, tightening it harder. "Watch it." She not only warns with her voice but her eyes too. You glare at her slightly, eventually feeling her tug you around and sitting you on the sink counter. "Stay quiet. If you don't do exactly as I say I'll leave you here. With nothing." Your eyes fell. Deciding to stop the act and just listen. Her fingers meet your wet pussy making your head fall against the mirror. "Fuck-" You bite your lip, remember what she had said.
"Mmm, close one huh?" You bit hard, nodding slightly. Her fingers slowly make contact with your entrance wasting no time into dipping them in, harshly. She was fucking evil. She wasn't even going to try be nice by taking it slow. Ensuring some noises come out. Your lip starts to bleed and she just laughs. "You stupid girl." You wanted to slap her, and you go to do so but remember. You can't. A tiny groan leaves your throat. "Uh-huh, think again." She says, noticing you struggle in the belt. When she hears you whine, muffled by your teeth sinking into your lip.
Her pace was ungodly, sending your eyes to truly roll back. "That's it, take them like the greedy bitch you are." You retreat your teeth from its former position. "Mm, fuck you." You mindlessly say. "Oh baby, don't say things you know you can't handle." You gave up, gave up with trying to outsmart her in any way. "Billie please, just fucking ruin me." Your request had her shocked slightly. "Don't underestimate me baby." - "I plan to."
Her fingers swiftly move out of you, earning a moan at the feeling and stretch. Her Jeans hit the floor, making you look infront at the fake dick. She looked so good, staring down at you with such lust. Enjoying the fact she was way taller than you now, your form sinking into the counter. Your body slumped. Anticipating what was about to come. Preferably you. The tip of the cock touches your weeping hole, making your mind race. You didn't care anymore you needed this more than anything. "Please put it in, please Billie-" And she does. Deep. Taking things on the faster side, fucking you absolutely filthy. Your head leans back again as it hits deeper. "Shit." You mutter softly. When you heard knocking. "Everything alright in there." Your eyes widen as you hear Avas voice.
She didn't know you were in there, but Billie needed her to. She had to show what was now hers. No one else was in here fucking your brains out, it was her. Just her. So she thrusts deeper than she had that night, hitting your g-spot causing you to let out a breathy moan. Bingo. "Yep! Just had a drunken lil accident and got hurt but it's all ok." Billie then replies. What a fucking liar, a good one because Ava seemed to believe it mainly. But Billie didn't stop, not one bit. "You're so annoying." You moan again. "Am I really? I'm just so annoying, isn't it so annoying that I'm fucking you so good. Your eyes are getting a good view of the back of your head. Yeah, how annoying."
Your eyes begin to shut, but her hand fixes on your jaw, holding tight. "Still hate me huh?" "Mhmmm." You say with your teeth back on your lip. "Mm, those noises tell me otherwise." She gets the perfect angle, hitting that blissful spot deep inside you. "Billie-" You gasp. "Go on, cum all over it. Gush all your hate on my dick baby." That alone sent you insane, your back arching as her thrusts continue. "Fuckfuckfuck." You chant as you felt it coming. Your orgasm has you shaking, has her satisfied. She was in awe seeing you like this.
"Still hate me, princess?"
#billie eilish#billie#billie elish moodboard#billie eilish fanfiction#billie ellish lyrics#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish smut#billie eilish x you#billie eilish x reader smut#billie eilish x y/n#kinktober
678 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Don't Want to Move On (Sanji x Reader)
_____ Pairing: Sanji x Female Reader Summary: When Sanji leaves you to marry Pudding, he shuts you out, and you don't know how to forgive him when he returns. Warnings: SPOILERS for Wholecake Island Arc, Angst to Fluff A/N: (h/c) = your hair colour [One Piece Masterlist] _____
You stop and look up, the quiet of the space between you and him bringing forth an awkwardness you were not used to. You were on the Sunny, in the doorway of the kitchen and your boyfriend was facing you with deep remorse reflecting his eyes. Or was he your ex now? You didn't know; you didn't even want to think anymore.
He had left you for her. He had hurt you. And no matter if his reasoning was credible, in the end, he had shut you out and left you to pick up the pieces. You know now that Sanji's family - if he could even call them family - were nothing of the affectionate and caring sort. No, they were emotionless and unkind, arrogant and vain; nothing like the man you loved.
You know that this whole scenario probably brought more agony to Sanji than it did to anybody else. But it didn't change the fact that you didn't know how to face him anymore, or how to talk to him. The words he spoke to you when you had finally caught up to him were raging in the back of your mind. Words that though perhaps false in that moment, still brought pain to ever hear from his lips.
"It was all an act... I could never love a low-life like you."
Was it really? Was it really all an act?
Then what were the nights spent buried in his arms, warm and safe and adored? What were the days spent laughing in the kitchen, the generous caresses and murmured words of devotion? What were the quiet moments spent together, where you thought you needed nothing more than him and his love? What were all the promises and bold whispers?
How many times have you heard him say "I love you" and how many times have you returned the sentiment? Hundreds and thousands of kisses were exchanged and a million times your hands held his. So many times, he pledged his loyalty, looked only to you, caressed only you. How many times had you seen that spark of joy and light reach his eyes, because they reflected the tenderness in yours?
Was that all an act too?
Now you found yourself avoiding him, and his faint calls of your name. You and your crew may have escaped Big Mom, and your friends may have found forgiveness for Sanji's actions. But you didn't know if you could do the same so easily. How could you when his words were spat like fire to your heart? How could you when he left you to marry another woman?
How could you when he shut you out so easily?
"Lov-" Sanji freezes, cold sweat on his face as he looks at you. He had never seen you look to him so devoid of the emotions he was so used to seeing. "[y/n]..." his words are a murmur, hesitant and ashamed. You fight the tears that want to travel down your face at the sight of him. He seemed lost, even when he had retaken his solace back on the Sunny and Luffy's crew. He looked pale and worried and regretful. But was that all an act too?
"Please, can we talk?"
Your heart tugs low at his words.
"I- I don't know, Sanji." His eyes spark just for a moment at the sound of your voice directed at him, after days on the sea without even an utterance. "You hurt me, you left me, I-" You swallow harshly as you watch the way his brows furrow in what seems like genuine pain. "I don't know how to move on from that."
You turn away swiftly, trying to get out of the doorway and out of his presence but Sanji is quick to his senses. He reacts desperately, holding your arm in his hand, causing your movements to halt. You look up at him, the tears now rolling down your face mirroring the ones brimming in his eyes.
"Please love, I don't want to move on from you..."
.....
When you arrived at Zou along with Luffy's group after the exhausting events at Dressora, you never thought you would find your boyfriend missing. Never did you dream.
And yet that was your reality.
Nami had rushed to you alongside Chopper, her bright facade faltering once she saw you and her Captain. She had flung herself into Luffy's arms, but her tearful eyes looked only to you.
"I'm sorry...Sanji's..."
Her words and actions already caused the rhythm of your heart to stutter but when she showed you the letter you felt it slip from your chest.
'I've gotta go see a woman. I'll be back.'
The words on the blank sheet of paper were plain and simple. He would be back. But who was this woman, and why was she of such importance he leaves without a trace or word to you?
It is Luffy who breaks the silence.
"Does, 'gotta go see a woman' mean... he's gonna get married?"
Your heart tugs fiercer at your Captain's words, and Nami is quick to strike his head in vexation. "Luffy!" She scolds, before offering a hand to your shoulder in comfort. "That's not necessarily the case..." You look up, and Nami avoids your gaze in regret, you know that there is something else she wants to say. "... but it seemed like he was determined."
"But he's with [y/n]! That's not allowed!"
Nami chastises Luffy again for his insensitivity but you quickly cut her off. "Nami," she looks at you in surprise at the calmness of your voice. "It's fine. He said he'll be back, didn't he?" She nods hesitantly at your words as your crew looks at you in concern.
"Then, he'll be back."
Your friends all stare, unsure of what to say, but as Brook speaks up, you feel your hopes wither slightly. "But, [y/n]-san, the bride is the Emperor's daughter. Of course, Sanji refused the marriage immediately. But that's what troubles me." The apprehension inside of you churns more and more. "It won't be easy to decline such an invitation. What do you think Sanji would do in a situation where he cannot escape the marriage?"
You think of your boyfriend. He was kind, generous and caring. But you had seen instances of him with traces of sadness in his gaze, only for him to brush you off when you asked if something was wrong. He never really knew how to accept the love that you so willingly offered him, and only time made him better at it. But this: this marriage with the daughter of an emperor too powerful for you to even fathom to defeat. You knew the answer to Brook's question quicker than Chopper had replied.
"He's the kind of guy who'll try not to cause us any trouble so he'd try to separate himself from us."
Nami nods slowly, and the ache in your chest builds the franticity within you. "When he tossed us outside, he could've gotten away too. When he wrote the note, I think he'd already made up his mind to go by himself." She meets your regard and you see the discomfort in her irises. She can see your concern, but it soon turns into a fierce resolve.
You had to at least try to get him to open up to you; to talk to you.
You would do anything for Sanji. You had to go see him and stop him. Surely, he was not doing this of his own free will, surely there were layers to this marriage and he obviously had his reasons why he must concede to them. So, when Luffy had shouted that he would go meet with Sanji and talk to him, you had agreed instantly despite the anxious murmurs of the crew.
"You're facing an emperor!"
Their concerns were valid but your worry for your boyfriend was more significant. He would never hurt you, or that's what you thought when you had joined Luffy, Nami, Brook and Chopper on your journey to Whole Cake Island. Surely he would open up to you as you had done to him so many times before. Surely he would come to his senses the moment he laid eyes on you. You could not fathom anything otherwise.
How wrong you were.
.....
When Sanji saw you, Luffy and Nami, for a moment his heart was overcome with hope, but it diverted immediately to utter fear and despair. His heart rate raged against his chest and in the presence of his brothers and father, his trepidation only grew.
Why were you here? Why were you here where he could not protect you?
When Luffy had flung himself onto his carriage with his wide smile and optimistic words, his mind could only pitch what was on the line. His hands were set to detonate if he even desired to leave, those on the Baratie were in jeopardy and you; the crew. He could not let you live a life under the rein of an emperor he knew would show little mercy.
He loved you; God did he love you.
But you just couldn't be here.
When Sanji had kicked Luffy from the carriage, you had watched, heart in your throat and completely stunned. You could hear Nami shouting at Sanji, "Hey! What are you doing Sanji-kun!" But when Sanji met eyes with you, he knew the only way to get you to leave; the only way to protect you was with words that would make you despise him.
"Get packing, you low-class pirates!"
You are voiceless at the way his eyes could contort to a way that shone with such disdain.
"My name is Vinsmoke Sanji. I'm a prince of the Germa Kingdom! I'm sorry for keeping it a secret. I thought that it'd make you miserable. The difference between our standings couldn't be clearer. If I stay here, I can spend money and use soldiers and servants as I like. Going back to that crappy ship with you... or staying here, marrying Big Mom's beautiful daughter."
Your heart falters as you hear the words slip his lips.
"It's pretty obvious which is a happier life. Don't take the note seriously. I won't go back with you! I can't believe you've come all the way here."
There is a silence that lingers on your behalf, and the way Sanji looks to you - to all of you - makes you want to wither and perish. You can hear Luffy shouting to Sanji in complete denial of his words, anger morphing on his face. Sanji approaches slowly as Luffy refuses to go away, and even as he leaves the carriage his expression does nothing to falter.
"I don't know what made you come, but I appreciate that you took the trouble. Having said that, if you really think about me, you should've done the opposite. Rather than being with you guys who are poor and weak, it'd be better to be part of the rich and powerful Big Mom Pirates. I'll be happier-"
"SHUT UP!"
Your words reach the air, interrupting your boyfriend's words before you can stop yourself. Sanji's heart lurches at your anger-tainted words, and yet he finds himself silently begging that you would leave quietly. However, you are too hurt to answer his prayers. You rush forward, past Luffy and Nami who calls your name hesitantly. You move until you're in front of Sanji, hands balled into fists by your side.
"Shut up! You can't mean that! Sanji-" Your words start to wilt the more you see his unbending stare remain on you, piercing and urging you to hate him, but you wouldn't. "How can you say that, Sanji? I know you; I know this can't be what you want. Just tell me the truth, we won't run, we'll fight whatever it is that you are fighting. You don't have to protect me from anything... I just want to be with you. Please Sanji, I love you, I know you love me too-"
"You actually believe that?"
You freeze when Sanji speaks to you, eyes unwavering, shaded expression, persuasive words. "What? Sanji stop, what are you-" But when you look up he is looking at you in a way you could not fathom to be true. Such contempt and hostility, and a hint of mockery. "You actually think, I care about you? That I want to protect you?" You shake your head slowly as aversion starts to build up within you.
"You're a liability, [y/n]."
"I was bored and miserable with you. The emperor is giving me a chance with her daughter, a woman who could actually make me happy. Who are you to deny me that?" You grit your teeth, anger taking hold of you, as you step forward and grasp the collar of his shirt in your hold. Sanji's eyes flicker with a moment's surprise before returning to the deadpan stare that you begin to despise.
"You're lying," you say, but Sanji does not falter. Your tears start to pour down your face as you look at your boyfriend devoid of his love. "Come back to the Sunny with us, Sanji. Let me in Sanji. Where's the man I fell in love with?" Sanji doesn't think that he loathed himself more than he did the moment he stared back at you, desperately trying to keep his own tears at bay. How could this be the way he says goodbye to the love of his life?
"It was all an act. Of course, I could never love a low-life like you."
At his words, you think you feel something break deep within you. Your hold goes limp on his collar and your eyes are wide in shock. Tears pour down your face, but suddenly you feel numb and you think you can actually hear your heart break. You hear Luffy's rage from behind you along with Nami's shouts of outrage. You can hear the muffled laughter of Sanji’s brothers beyond the carriage at your crestfallen expression.
Nami drags you back to her. Sanji fights Luffy so that he would make him leave too. But you feel so hollow you hardly even register the events that take place around you. When Luffy falls limp to the ground you still look numbly to the man in front of you.
Nami's slap was sharp against Sanji's cheek, but what twisted his insides more was the fact that you did nothing. Instead, you looked at him with the most barren expression he had ever seen from you. An expression he fought to keep from touching your face was placed in front of him because of him. Sanji almost broke, but he could say nothing. "Goodbye. Sorry- we should've never done this." Nami's words are harrowing to his ears, but again he could say nothing. She instantly went to your side uttering comforts but he no longer saw your face.
In his mind, he screamed at you to stay. He screamed that he wanted to be with you for eternity. That he loved you like nothing else in this world. He never wanted to leave you, he never wanted to marry anyone but you. The days spent chasing women were left behind in the past like specs of dust. You were all that had encompassed him. You were all that made him feel worthy of love and life and warmth.
His shock when he learnt that you, actually felt the same was like the feeling of his heart retching free and soaring through the sky. He never thought a day would come when a woman he loved as much as he loved you, could return that same devotion. He was in heaven. Every day with you was heaven. He never even dreamt that a goodbye would come, because he would rather perish than let it become reality.
He had made his worst nightmare come true.
All because he couldn't let you in. He couldn't hurt you. He wouldn't let the burdens on his back be the burden on yours. He doesn't want to cause you misery because of a choice he made or a past that he runs from. You were his angel, and he felt as though reaching out would taint your heart and your outlook on him.
And so, he left.
His brothers laughed and shouted absurdities, but he didn't look back.
"Damn Sanji, you sure had some tasteful women on your crew."
"Yeah call back the chick with the [h/c] hair! If you don't want her I might entertain her for a night or-"
"Shut up!"
Such fury fills him at his brother's words that he loathed their beings almost as much as he loathed himself.
Luffy's words that he would stay unmoving until his return echo through the distance placed between you both, and that is when he lets his tears slip. But his tears aren't for his Captain, they're for you. You and the life he thought he was so blessed to share with you. He had thought so stupidly that maybe all the turmoil he had faced in his early life was because you would be waiting in the future, and be a hundred times worth the despair he had felt.
But of course, it would all be stripped away. You wouldn't forgive him. He wouldn't forgive himself. He would have to live with the fact that the love of his life was gone for good, and along with you, any ounce of love he felt in his heart.
.....
"Stop Dreaming! Will I Marry that low life? No way!"
"That idiot played right into my hands. And fell for me."
Isn't it funny, how you don't realise the damage your words can do until they are thrown back at you?
Was this how you felt when he had thrown your love away?
No, it must've been worse because these were the words of a woman he couldn't love, but you; he had loved you and you had loved him. The words from his fiancé sounded shrill and sharp against his ears, but he could not even compare how he would've felt if those words were from you.
Sanji felt the energy leave him as suddenly as his hopes to move on from you and the crew had come. What was wrong with him? Leant heavily on a wall he listens as this woman berates him for his stupidity. But he deserved it. That's what he thought.
He had left the days of chasing women long ago, but he found himself forcing himself back into the rhythm just to push the thoughts of you from his head.
Yes, I'll cook for pudding-chan.
Yes, I'll just revert to Sanji. The Sanji who loves women.
Yes, I'll forget, I'll move on.
But the dish he made for Pudding was the abundance of favourite foods of his crew. The one in larger quantity was yours. '[y/n]...' Sanji retched himself free of your image for only a moment but his heart jolted laboriously against his chest. He missed you. But then, he'd remember the flash of your downcast eyes shining in utter despondency and in the absence of the love he usually saw in them.
He didn't deserve you.
But when he hears Pudding's words mock him of his love and being. He did nothing but miss you. Miss your kind words and gentle touch. Miss your honest love and your silent comforts. Miss your joy and laughter and the glimmer in your eyes when he cooked something for you.
Fuck, he missed you.
Sanji crumbles, flowers lost from his grip and food long forgotten. He reaches for a cigarette; he was on his last few having gone through them like nothing these past few days. But as he reaches the lighter and flicks and flicks and flicks again, there is no light. When finally, a glimmer of hope prevails and he sees his cigarette catch fire, it is out in an instant by the pouring rain.
The vision of your smiling face is lost along with it.
One tear slips past his face, followed by another. His heartache was almost unbearable as he felt himself move away. Anywhere was better than listening to the words of the woman he was betrothed to. But the place he wanted to be in most was the embrace of the woman he loved.
.....
Now you are standing there, in his grasp and in front of him, but your eyes were filled with a pain he feared he couldn't ever undo.
"Please love, I don't want to move on from you..."
Your eyes meet his and he sees an emotion he had never seen in your gaze: hesitation. You were usually so sure with him, so usually knowing that he was your safe space and your comfort and all you could need. Sanji hates that he had stripped that all away.
You begin to speak but he is quick to cut off your sparing words.
"Sanji-"
"I never loved her."
Your eyes shoot open as his words tumble like boulders from his mouth.
"I- I only love you. Those words I said to you, I didn't mean a single thing. I don't hate you, I wasn't miserable with you, I was the happiest I had ever been and I was stupid to give it up so quickly. I was a coward. I-"
A tear slips lonely down your cheek, but you are surprised when you feel slight anger ignite in your system rather than resistance.
"That's what you think I'm angry about Sanji?"
The man in front of you freezes mid-sentence, his anxious eyes giving way to utter confusion.
“I-“
"That's what you think hurt me?"
You let out a soft, emotionless laugh as you look to the ceiling and back to him, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.
"I wanted you to let me in, I wanted you to let me help you. I told you not to protect me, I told you to let me fight with you but you didn't."
There is a silence that unveils the sentiment of truth in your pain. Your own boyfriend had left you with bitter words, but what had torn your heart to shreds was the fact that you thought he did not trust you to carry his burdens as he did yours. You thought that a relationship with him would concur to you being his person as much as he was yours and yet he had shut you out and walked away.
"You pushed me away."
Your last words to him are quiet, and the pain exceeds what you can hold back so tears start to cascade quickly down your face.
"Sanji-"
He moves before you even have the chance to continue, your broken words causing his own chest to squeeze painfully. He pulls you close to him and in an instant, you are engulfed in his arms and your senses are filled with his familiar scent and warmth. You tremble slightly as you push your face deeper into his chest, and his face buries itself into your skin.
Sanji feels his heart contort painfully as it goes from warmth to agony.
How can a woman such as you exist?
Your kindness he didn't deserve? Your love and consideration he had hid himself from? Your devotion to him? All this time he had thought the words he spoke to you were what caused the distance between the two of you. But you were hurting because he had not trusted that you would accept him and comfort him and carry his hardships as yours.
"I'm so sorry love. I- I just didn't want you to know. I didn't want you to see how pathetic I was in my earlier life. I didn't want you to see me differently. I didn't want to burden you or cause you hurt."
Your tears start to slow and your heart rate steadies as you find solace in the chasms of his arms. "I know that I just-" Your words stumble into your soft cries.
"I just wanted to help you."
When Sanji pulls away and looks into your eyes, he finds in them a glimmer of hope. Could he dare to ask for your forgiveness? When he moves next it is out of all the love he has for you in his heart, all of his regret and sorrow and devotion. His breath is hot against your lips before they connect, deep and soft and passionate. He brings your form closer to him, his touch like fire on your skin.
You finally respond.
A hand carves its way into the depths of his blond hair as you pull him impossibly closer. You move desperately against him and pour all the fondness and misery you held onto into the kiss. It lasted for long moments, the pressing of your mouth to his, the warmth and the love. When you pulled apart his head rested on yours, his affection still lingering on your skin. Your breaths were uneven.
"My love, forgive me."
When his gaze meets yours, it is filled with his pure, honest intention. Yes, the division cast between you may take more than a kiss to heal. Yes, the trust shared between you may have to be built from a hundred conversations and reassurances. But the love that the both of you had was true, and you knew that neither one of you would be moving on from the other. So, you smile tenderly and sadly at him as you tug his face to yours and connect your lips softly and deliberately.
In your mind was one thought.
You'll both be just fine.
#x reader#reader insert#fem reader#fanfic#one piece#one piece x reader#one piece x you#one piece x y/n#one piece sanji#sanji x you#sanji x reader#sanji x y/n#op x reader#sanji#zoro#nami#nico robin#op sanji#op spoilers#monkey d. luffy#tony tony chopper#soul king brook#angst to fluff#hurt/comfort#fanfiction#whole cake island#whole cake arc#whole cake spoilers
556 notes
·
View notes
Text
Good Girls in the Dark - Choi Yena
"Hello, I'm Choi Yena, nice to meet you!"
"Omo son why didn't you tell us your girlfriend is so pretty?! Come in come in!" Your mom quickly leads Yena into your home, who's already locking arms with her. "Finally you bring someone back for Chuseok!" she looks back at you and admonishes. You simply shake your head and follow them in.
"You look so young, I thought you were oppa's sister!"
"Oh stop it, you have such a sweet tongue!"
Yena's a good girl.
At least, that was your initial impression when you met her for the first time—it was supposed to be a Yuehua flex, having Yena drop by to say hi, to congratulate everyone on the successful joint project between Yuehua and your company. Mindful and demure, she was considerate of everyone, smiling and greeting all of you like the energetic idol she is.
True to her energy, she insisted you all go to a club for the afterparty, but the group soon diffuses into the crowd—some people left almost immediately, others stayed for a few drinks, and yet more broke off into their cliques. You try to sneak out too, until Yena somehow gets a hold of you, pulling you into a dark corner of the club. She has a drink in hand, but by now it is empty save for a few drops of whatever she had.
"Why do you keep looking at me?" she demands to know.
"What? I haven't!"
"Don't lie, I saw you sneaking looks." You were, but you didn't think Yena would notice, that you would just blend in with your co-workers.
"How would you know?" you fire back.
"Because I've been looking at you too." It must be the alcohol in Yena talking, for she smashes her lips into yours, tongue immediately pushing into your mouth. She does have a sweet tongue. "Can I trust you?"
"You should have asked me that before you kissed me."
"Oops, oh well. Now answer the question."
"Yes."
"Good, I don't want to go home tonight," she breathes into your ear.
Yena's a good girl in the dark.
"So how did you two meet?" your dad asks during dinner.
"At work! I was at an event for our company, and he was there! He was very nice to me."
"That's all it took? My son is good!"
"Dad don't," you mutter, shaking your head and leaving the table carrying your dishes. At least Yena didn't say it started with a hookup, or your parents would have had an aneurysm. The one night stands became more frequent, and your apartment became a place for stress relief for Yena.
Over time the two of you ended up spending equal amounts of time talking and fucking, and both of you finally gathered the courage to give in to your feelings and agree to start dating—to be fair, neither of you were seeing anyone else anyways, so exclusivity wasn't a discussion that needed to be had. Ironically the dating aspect wasn't really a thing either—Yena was an idol, so any dates you two had were just at your place.
"What? Our son is so charming, he found a celebrity girlfriend! And she eats so much too, I thought you would be dieting or something, I was afraid I made too much!" you hear your mum say.
"No no, that's just a stereotype, I eat more than he does!"
"That's great, you eat so well!"
Yena's a good girl.
~~
"Fuck, you eat me so well," you moan as Yena slurps you, tongue running up the underside of your shaft. It's early in the morning, the sunlight just peeking through the curtains. You can barely make out the shape of Yena in your sleepy haze, but you can definitely identify her by her tongue and hands.
"Because your cum is so delicious!" she says as she strokes you, eager for her morning cum-ffee. "I can see some of it already!" She licks your tip, swiping up the dripping precum. Yena's hungry for more, and she goes deep on your cock, taking all of it in easily. The loud sloppy noises she makes are the lewdest alarm sounds you've ever heard, and your favorite by far.
"Oh fuck, Yena, I'm gonna cum!" There is no holding back your orgasm, and your hand finds itself in her hair, pushing her down like she was an alarm clock. You thrust up involuntarily, and Yena hums as you hit the roof of her mouth, feeling you surrender in the form of a thick morning load sliding down her throat. Yena's eyeing you as you come down from your peak, making sure you're fully drained before she let's you go with a pop.
"Thanks, I gotta go now."
"Wait, I need something for the morning too no?" You wiggle your eyebrows and Yena laughs.
"I suppose I can spare a few minutes," she sighs theatrically and slides up your body. You expect her to remove her pants and underwear, but she's already naked from the waist down.
"Tch, you were expecting it weren't you?"
"I knew you would repay the favor." She pushes herself onto your face.
Yena's a good girl in the dark.
~~
"Auntie, do you need help with the dishes?"
"Oh no no no you're the guest, you can't be helping with the dishes!"
"I don't mind, besides it makes the dishes go by faster!"
"You see son, why can't you be more like Yena?"
"I live by myself, I do the dishes back home already!"
"I don't care, come help us with the dishes or else!" your mom threatens.
"Fine."
"God it's like I have to beg you to do the dishes, at least Yena's so polite and well-mannered, offering to help!"
Yena's a good girl.
~~
"Please sir."
"What do you want me to do Yena?" you ask the naked idol bent over your lap.
"Spank me."
"What's the magic word?"
"Please spank me." You reward her with a hearty slap across her ass, watching it jiggle and turn red. Yena yelps before thanking you.
"Good." You rub her cheek to soothe her before slipping your hand between her legs—she's dripping. Carelessly you run a finger along her pussy, letting her wetness coat it before wiping it on her. Yena squirms, and you wrap an arm around her midriff, holding her flush against your body, trapping her. Yena takes a deep breath and relaxes, going limp briefly.
"T-Thank you." It made her feel taken care of—she can let her mind go blank, let the pleasure take over, leave everything to you. But you tease her, rubbing her slit as you stroke her head, petting her like you pet a cat, or a duck perhaps. All while she can feel your erection poking her from below. Yena's little gasps and moans get louder and more frequent, breathing heavily over your lap as you continue.
"Please put it in." You push two fingers in, and Yena clenches immediately around them. You push Yena forward on your lap, bending her over one thigh to give you better access to her pussy. Yena's almost folded in half over your leg, blood rushing to her head as she watches her own toes curl uncontrollably due to your fingering. You dig deep, bending and twisting your fingers, as if trying to find the last cookie crumb deep inside Yena's jar. You do find what you're looking for, and Yena's the cookie that crumbles.
"R-Right there!" Beneath you Yena's face is red, both from pleasure, and from the little droplets she sees appearing between her legs. "Wait oppa, I'm going to make a mess—"
"Oppa?"
"I mean, ah! Sir, sorry sir, wait, stop!" You dig a little harder, a little faster, and it becomes a stream of liquid pleasure, leaking down her leg and dripping off Yena's toes.
"Manners Yena."
"Puhlea—" Before she can get the second syllable fully out you press her sensitive clit with your thumb and Yena chokes out a desperate cry, drenching your hand in her slick as she cums hard. Yena claws at your leg, gripping it tightly while she splashes over you. You help Yena right herself, but her legs are weak, and she sits in a puddle of her own juices as she lays her head on your thigh, breathing shallow and labored. You lay a hand on her cheek, and she turns to kiss it, as if soothing herself on you. When she opens her eyes again she looks up at you, before looking to the tent you're pitching in your pants.
"I want you," she whispers, managing to push herself up and pull your shorts off. Her hands go to your boxers, but you stop her.
"Are you forgetting something?"
"Please." Yena says it like an afterthought, removing your boxers and getting in your lap—her slick covered legs are spreading it everywhere on your couch. She tries to sink herself on to you, but you shift your hips, making her miss. "Come on!"
"Say it like you mean it."
"Please, I need you in me." She grabs your cock, her hands wrapping around your length. "I need something thick in me, my pussy needs something to... grip!" She twists her hands, squeezing you tightly. You let her position you at her entrance, and your cock twitches a little as a few more drops of slick land on your shaft.
"Please give me your cock," Yena whispers before kissing you needily.
You slam her down on you.
"Oh fuck!"
Yena's a good girl in the dark.
~~
"Yena do you drink? Are you allowed to?"
"Oh yes of course we are allowed to, I'll have whatever oppa has."
"Okay I'll go get the beer."
"No dear, get the ginseng wine."
"Should I?" Your dad nods emphatically.
"We're all becoming one family here, we can break out the good stuff and celebrate!" You know exactly where this is going as your mum brings the wine.
"Dad no don't do that!" You grab Yena's hand in apology. "Sorry."
"No no, I'm sure Yena doesn't mind! All we're saying, your mum and I, is that we would approve of whatever you two want to do in the future. Get married, have kids, you know, whatever you want!"
"It's okay uncle, I understand, thank you for being so nice to me and making me feel so welcome! We haven't really talked about our future, but it's good to know we have your support!"
"Good, see, that's a sensible young woman! Cheers!"
Yena's a good girl.
The operative word there is "really", because you two have certainly talked about your future together.
In bed.
In the heat of the moment.
While you're deep in Yena.
~~
"How many kids should I put in you, how many do you want!" you grunt as you thrust down into her, feeling her clench around you in response. Yena's legs push uselessly against your arms, your elbows locking her knees down in a mating press.
"As many as you want, fuck! That's so deep!" Her arms have a stranglehold around your neck, keeping you close, her flexibility allowing you to kiss her even as you fuck her in the uncompromising position. Yena's tits jiggle as you pound into her, a lewd visual of just how hard you're thrusting.
"B-Breed me, breed me harder!" It was a kink that Yena let slip once, and since then you've indulged her, joining her in enjoying the thought, relishing the feel of fucking Yena raw each and every time.
"Fuck I'm going to cum, you better keep count!" you shout as you slam down into her with finality, letting loose multiple shots into her. Yena seems to go over the edge with you, clenching around your pulsing cock, lips mumbling incoherently. You collapse on top of her, burying yourself against her neck, kissing her lovingly and cuddling her. It is a little later before either of you are able to speak.
"Five, I counted five shots earlier," she murmurs into your ear, tickling you.
"That many?"
"Mmhmm, I must have drained a lot out of you, hm? Poor oppa." Yena jokes, pinching your cheek. But she pushes you on your back and gets on top of you. The sight of your load leaking out of her is enough to get you to half-mast, and her words get you the rest of the way there.
"Let me do the rest of the work. We have to contribute equally to get me knocked up." She slides her cream-filled warmth over you.
Yena's a good girl in the dark.
~~
"I'm done showering!" Yena announces to you as she joins you in the guest bedroom.
"Great, let's get some rest, it's been a long day." You pull the covers over the two of you and hold Yena close. "Thanks for coming here with me."
"Of course, your parents are so nice!"
"They got a little too excited about meeting you, sorry."
"No no it's okay, I like it, they're fans of me, because of you!"
"I guess." You kiss the top of her head, ready to sleep. Yena is not though, and she slips her hand under your t-shirt.
"Haven't I been a good girl today? Shouldn't you reward me?"
"Yena..." you start.
"I didn't tell them we started dating after multiple hookups together. I didn't tell them we do it raw all the time. I didn't—"
"You really want to have sex here, tonight?" Yena nods and throws a leg around you, and to your surprise she's already very wet.
"Just the thought, you know? Being part of your family, us being a family, starting a family. And I heard ginseng wine is good for you too, get the blood flowing." You know exactly why Yena's so wet now. "I-I even brought towels from the bathroom. I'm going to make such a mess." She says it like sex is a foregone conclusion.
"You're going to have be really quiet, I know how loud you get when you want me to breed you."
"That's what the other towel is for." She scrunches the towel up and bites down on it, looking at you pleadingly.
Yena's a good girl, but Yena's your good girl in the dark.
A/N: Just something quick and dirty, the whole "Good Girls in the Dark" song from her just gave me the idea lol. Right before her next comeback heh, maybe there's another "dirty" title there hopefully, or I'll just make it dirty as usual. Thanks for reading!
570 notes
·
View notes
Note
Reader who lies about König being her boyfriend to get herself out of trouble, que to König finding out
It was just a small lie. To your parents, at first. You said that yes, of course mom, I have a boyfriend - but oh, he is actually a colonel in the military, something something mercenaries, contracts, I barely see him and forced to wipe my tears of missing him with dollar bills he sends in a tight envelope every two weeks( Konig wasn't your friend per say, just a guy you knew through a couple of other friends - he is always quiet, always out of the loop, one time you helped him fix his phone because he had too many hentai viruses and then you recommended him to just buy an iPhone - and he did. For both of you. Something about repaying for your help. You had a couple of pictures together, with his hand slump awkwardly around your shoulder. He is kinda weird about you, come to think of it - ever since you started to talk to him from this time, he became...awkward. Kinda weird about your...well, everything - and you don't want to be judgy, of course not, but it's still just a bit awkward. Nonetheless, you started telling your other friends that you're...not seeing each other exactly, but that there is something. Mainly because you were tired from questions...and also because Konig is the only guy from your friend group that follows you like a puppy. You only found out that he knew about it when you were exiting a friend's gathering. His hand caught yours, a firm hold on your wrist. Quiet statement that he will drive your home - this is what boyfriends are supposed to do, right? You tried to tell him that he is not your boyfriend, that there is no way he believed in whatever lies you were telling to everyone - but your friends smile at how considerate he is, spend the whole night not drinking just so he could drive his drunk girl home. Konig smiles under that dumb half-mask of his when you try to protest without alerting your friends. when he drags you to his car and instructs you to take off his mask and kiss him properly - it's the least you could do after leading him on for so long and then simply using him as a shield, right? He isn't mad, not really...he'd play the role of your boyfriend just fine if you were okay with him getting it too seriously...
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
-I've only ever loved you!
pairing: theo nott x fem!reader
Summary: where you and theo cross the boundaries of friendship.
warnings:slight mentions of smut near the end but purely fluff
note: I don't speak much English and i'm a first time writer let me know how I could improve pls!
It was a common occurrence for the group of slytherins to gather in the common room after a dreadful day of classses.
The boys had all gathered around the firepit. Mattheo,Lorenzo and Draco on the couch complaining about the last Quidditch game against Gryfinndor. Theo and Blaise sat side by side on their lounge chairs sharing a cigarette amongst themselves.
As you packed your bag and got ready to leave your final lesson your path was blocked by Cormac McLaggen “hey y/n are you still into that dumb slytherin or you going to take me up on my previous offer” it had taken a lot of energy to not punch him then and there.
“Cormac we’re never going to be a thing get over it” just as he was about to retaliate Pansy had thankfully interrupted him by pushing you into the direction of the door and showing him the finger.Once we were out of sight she began to ramble on “What a dick it’s been what 3 years ,come on, everyone can tell you and Theo are infatuated with each other”
“pansy come on it’s not like that” you didnt know why you still insisted when you knew she knew you better then yourself “yeah yeah why else have you been single your whole life?” you just rolled your eyes not in the mood to have the same repetitive conversation.
It's not that you didn’t like Theo it’s just you thought it was too good to be true.While you had been single he had managed to be seen at different parties with different girls and a part of your heart would break each time while you waited for your turn.
“Okay i’ll stop talking but will you tell him what happened and how McLeery will not stop bugging you” that had made you chuckle but it stopped when you thought about how Mclaggen had followed you around school during fifth year begging you to date him until Theo found out and had beaten him black and blue and he didn't stop until Mattheo and Lorenzo had dragged him away from the boy that became limp on the floor with blood everywhere. You shiver as you recalled the memories “I think i’ll refrain from telling him this time”
Y/N and Pansy had just returned to the common room from the final class of the day.
As you and pansy went down the stairs towards the boys you looked up and were met with theo’s eyes and he beckoned you over to sit with him as we made our way over you felt pansy nudge you and you looked over to see her wiggling her eyebrows teasing you.
You couldn't blame me for my feelings for the Italian boy with the hypnotising eyes, we had met during first year and have been inseparable since. We were probably the closest to each other amongst the group, we had been with each other through ups and downs and found comfort within each other.
As you made your way over to Theo he discarded his cigarette on the ashtray. You had gone to sit on the armchair but he snaked an arm around your waist and moved you over to sit on his lap "that's better amore mio" he then started playing with the ends of your hair while focusing on his conversation with Blaise.
As you turned around to face the other boys and pansy while trying to appear unfazed which was harder then it looked especially with Theo rubbing circles on your inner thighs causing butterflies to appear in your tummy.
You gave pansy a knowing look once you saw her move over to cuddle with Blaise. Apart of you felt quite jealous of how easy it was for your friends to form relationships but of course the other part of you felt joyful for your friends.
You began to relax in his arms and lay your head on the side of his neck until a trail of goosebumps began to form on your neck from Theo whispering “Are you feeling okay?You don't look well,my love” with the soft gaze in his eyes when he looked at you it was hard to not give in but you just nodded “I just had a long day and had double DADA lessons with Snape."
Theo looked at you unconvinced but he seemed to have let it go “Do you want to take a nap in my dorm and then we can hang out with them later” he knew you so well you gently nodded,now feeling more tired at the thought of sleeping.
He tapped on your thigh to alert you to stand up as he took you by the hand informing the group we were going for a nap. You refused to look back avoiding Pansys knowing look.
As he led you up the stairs to his dorm and brought you into the room with his hand still intertwined with yours.The room that was usually resided by Mattheo and Lorenzo now empty Theo had now gotten comfortable on his bed whilst you took of your shoes.
Theo spread out his arms inviting you into his embrace,you gladly joined him. After a few moments of silence Theo began to play with your hair and you glanced up to him to find him already looking at you “You know you don't have to hide what your feeling Amore mio”he let out a sigh“I know but i just don’t want to stir the pot or anything” He gave you a look which meant ‘stop playing or i’ll found out myself’ which caused you to reluctantly spill.
“It’s just i’ve been single my whole life and now i’m not sure if i’m destined to face unrequited love for the rest of my life and i feel like everyone’s gained some experience including you who has a a different girl each party and i feel like I'm missing out” you let out a breathe you didn’t know you were holding from your rant.
You felt like a weight was taken of your shoulders you glanced up again to see what he was thinking “principessa ,I truly wish you could see yourself the way i see you and how worthy and valuable you are,none of those girls compare to you and those excuses of a men don't even deserve to breathe the same oxygen as you."and with that he left a kiss on your forehead
Even though you felt flustered you couldn’t believed the words that come out of his mouth in absolute awe your gaze dropped down to his lips as he licked it and your words had began to spill out of your mouth “Would you ever love me more than a friend?" he looked taken aback and started to shift which made you regret your words instantly "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable I don't know why I said that" you started to remove yourself from his hold in a panic over the possibility of ruining your friendship before he pushed you back onto the bed, held you by the waist to secure you in place and connected your lips together with him on top of you.
His soft,pinkish lips against yours as you both fought for dominance he gently bit your lower lip.It felt as if your lips perfectly fit together and you knew it was going to be your new addiction. You both separated gasping for air "ti amo così tanto mio tesoro"(I love you so much my darling) you gazed up at him unable to speak you felt like you were in a trance"I love you so much I can’t even explain it in words but I know I only want you for the rest of my life and you heal different pieces of my heart each time I lay eyes on you" you couldn't even fathom the things he was saying it had all felt surreal.
"I love you too ragazzo carino" (pretty boy) you replied leaning up to give him another peck on his lips "does that mean your finally mine Bella ragazza?" (pretty girl) you chuckled you felt like the stars and moon had aligned "of course,its not like I haven't been longing for you since third year"at the confirmation he had been waiting for Theo tugged you closer to him on top of you giving you another kiss that should be written in the books.
The kiss began to heat up and become more passionate ,full of emotion, he tugged on the hemline of your shirt taking it off. His fingers crawling slowly upwards,stopping at your sternum.
You interrupted the kiss before it could go further "At least Mclaggen will finally leave me alone"Theo let out a groan at the mention of the boy "ugh principessa why would you mention him"you giggled as he rolled his eye out of annoyance "That bastard won't be able to touch you with a ten-foot pole"you felt yourself get turned on at his sudden anger "why don't you show him who I belong to?"
Theo grinned at the idea and continued his previous actions displaying his love for you all over your body.
The thought of a nap being long-forgotten..
#harry potter#theodore nott#slytherin#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#enzo berkshire#mattheo riddle#fluff#theo nott#theodore nott smut#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott imagine#fanfic#smut#theo nott x y/n
657 notes
·
View notes
Text
HYUN-JU
male reader, reader is a college student, talks of dysphoria, hyun-ju's past, reader doesn't know hyun ju's trans, pining/being smitten, death, crying, scuicidal thoughts, im in love with this woman.
note: i am not trans, im a cis dude. if i ever get something wrong or offensive and you're trans just let me know and i'll fix it. Also I saw something where someone said gyeong-seok probably just thought hyun ju was a cis woman who had a really deep voice and i thought it was funny.
You had been lucky to pass the first game. You were scared out of your mind, and the small group you made from the first few games had died. It was terrible, you had no one. It's surprising how despite everyone being in the same situation— you found no more comfort.
But there was this girl you had seen. She had shoulder length hair, and earrings that truly just suit her. She was really pretty, you wanted to talk to her yet she was always with her own group.
Yet this time, she wasn't. She was just by herself for a moment, was she thinking to herself? Maybe you should talk to her? No, that's a bad idea. Okay, but what else was there to do? You might die without talking to the woman of your dreams.
Mustering up the little courage you had, you went over to her. Hands sweaty the closer you got to her. You wiped it on your slightly blood stained uniform, feeling even more icky realizing you were bloody.
Getting closer to her, you sat on a mattress. Shit, what now? You cleared your throat, "H..hi." you felt like you were back in highschool. Mouth dry as if you were talking to your fist crush. She looked over to you, a small smile on her curious face. "Hi."
She spoke to you, holy crap she spoke to you.
"How uh— how are you?" You stuttered.
But before she could answer you shook your head, blurting for her not to answer that stupid question. Jesus your face was burning up, felt like you had a fever.
"I'm sorry," You were able to get that out. "This is dumb, I just thought you were really pretty and.." She hadn't broken eye contact with you, but you could barely look at her. "In a situation like this it's pretty weird to say something like that to someone isn't it?"
"You think I'm pretty?"
You shut your mouth, looking at her oddly. "Yeah..of course i do. Do you not think so?" She scoffed, thinking you were joking. She had just gotten called beautiful by young-mi, and she believed it she truly did. But hearing it from someone she barely knew? Made her feel like crying again.
"I have been called a lot of things, yet not pretty. I only expected to be called pretty after my transition." That was where you made another face more confused than before. "Transition?" Your voice spoke with genuine confusion.
She raised her eyebrow at you, then rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that. I know you can tell." You really couldn't. There was nothing you had against transgender people at all, but it doesn't change the fact you couldn't tell.
"I really wasn't aware, was that offensive to you?" She stared at you for a moment, bursting out laughing after a while and earning some stares. "My voice? Even hearing me, you weren't aware?" You shook your head and shrugged.
"I just thought you had a naturally deep voice." Oh you were making her feel so much better, even if you didn't know it. She couldn't stop laughing, grabbing onto your shoulder as a touch of affection. It made you smile and laugh with her, your own hand touching hers to reciprocate.
The two of you had deeper talks over time until the next game. She told you what you guessed she told the others, about her plan on what to do with the money, how she had others distance themselves from her when she told them she felt like a woman. It made you feel bad, but you were happy she was telling you this because it felt like you had known each other for so long.
You wished it lasted longer
—
"Six." The moment it was spoke, you had been pulled by hyun ju. It was a habit she was making, always grabbing you the moment the she heard the number. But this time, she made a mistake. She realized last minute young-mi was too behind.
She panicked, no one else seemed to have room and it was a moment of time before she absolutely had to close the door.
Hyun ju's grip stayed on you, it seemed to get tighter the more stressed she got. Young mi was just a kid, she deserved to live on.
"10, 9, 8,"
You only had so much time to decide. You yanked yourself from hyun ju's grip, and she instantly gave you a look as if you were stupid. "What are you doing?" She wanted to save you both, but you knew that wasn't possible.
You didn't speak, only letting your lips touch hers quickly, yet you stayed as long as you could. Even in death you would always remember her lips, they trembled against yours, confused, yet wanting and needing more. You let yourself run out, pushing the girl inside. "1."
It was done, and there was nothing that could be done. You heard the yell of her voice, panicking and shaking the door trying to get it to open. "No, no, unlock the door! God damn it!"
"I love you." She stopped, looking at you in your eyes. You were scared too, crying even. You didn't want to die, and she knew it. She was so deeply in love with someone she only knew for a few hours, but it felt like years. She needed you, she wanted you to live. Get to know you better when this was all over, maybe even go further if it could!
She couldn't even say it back while you were conscious. The life left your eyes, and your body fell. "No.." she was in disbelief. No, you weren't dead.
"Please, please, I love you too.." She couldn't be upset at anyone, she couldn't even stand on her own two feet.
"Unnie." Arms wrapped around her, "Come on..you have to get up..the next round." She didn't want to play anymore, she didn't feel like she could. If only it was her, she could have at least had hope for you and young-mi.
Damn it
#hyun ju x reader#hyun ju#120 squid games#120#hyun ju x male reader#male reader#squid game#squid games 2#squid games x reader#squid games#squid games x male reader#squid game x reader#squid game x you#squid game x y/n#squid game x male reader
307 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Archive of Smite
This page belongs to the writer named Smite. He wrote fics starting in September of 2021 up until April 2024. In these 2,5 years, over 8.000 people followed him to read some of the craziest k-pop girl group smut out there. Almost 150 stories of sex in all kinds of positions, for many reasons, all over the world (and in outerspace), with too many kinks to count.
"When I started, I kinda wanted to become the best. I wanted my favorite writers at the time - Levi, Peach, Sins, and many more - to know that I could write as good as they can. I wanted to go wilder and crazier."
Smite, though ambitious, was also stupid and naive. At roughly the same time he started writing, two other community legends began their careers. IZ and Kaede crushed everything in their sight, especially the former becoming an absolute legend.
"Writing was fun. At times, it was escapism from everyday worries. At other times, it was fulfillment of fantasies I could never reach. Mostly though, it was just horny. BFH that just became words. If you go through my Masterlist, you might see which idols had some random heights or were just... Always on my hot list."
Smite never really stopped writing, not for long stretches that is. It didn't really occur to him that there might be a sudden, drastic reason to stop. He considered doing so anyways. Something about writing porn about irl people without them knowing or wanting - needless to say, it is an odd hobby. Nevertheless, he enjoyed it amd the community it brought with it.
"I fucking love these guys. So many hilarious peoplefrom all over the world. One became like my best friend, a rock during my emotional struggles. Another was my boyfriend for a short time. Man, I screwed up with him kekw. There are too many to mention. I've had long talks with some, others just came by and listened to me mald or something. I love you all, some of you I consider true friends - part of my soul - and I feel connected, even if you are thousands of miles away."
2024 started stressful for Smite. The pressure of Uni started to collapse on him. Even the thought of big kpop concerts wasn't enough to cheer him up. Luckily though, there was this girl. Sweet, kind, caring and in the same position. Soon, he had found something that seemed impossible. She was in love with him and he in love with her. And when everything unraveled.
"I stopped writing. I burried my drafts. I finished only one story and released it way later. I'm sorry I didn't announce it properly, but I just felt that this smut writing career was over. I don't regret it - I gained something beautiful I want to keep for the rest of my life. She is at least as pretty as Minju, so I call that the biggest win imaginable lol."
So no more smuts from Smite?
"99% no"
No more fanfictions/girl group stories in general?
"Eh, 80% no. Still some unfinished angst that I would love y'all to read tho"
Will you ever reach those 150 fics?
"We will see. In this count there are fics with less than 1000 words. I might just sneeze and finish it kekw"
Any fic you regret not writing?
"Not really? Maybe a proper ending for Starship: Horizon? Or yet another Minju fic? Futa stuff? Gaeul angst x female reader? Or how about a fic with 69 different idols at once? Who but me would dare to write something so stupid?"
Do you think you reached your initial goal?
"Do I consider myself the GOAT? No. That title belongs to either Peach, Levi or IZ. But I know that of my now 8.700 followers some consider me their favorite writer. I'm flattered and thank you very much for reading amd enjoying my work."
Now for the most important question: does this post mean you are finally leaving the community behind for good? Is this your last hoorah?
"..."
"Never."
300 notes
·
View notes
Text
'Cherry Bomb' | Michael Gavey x Reader (Part 1)
a/n: this will have two parts, most likely! english is not my first language and i have no idea how oxford university works lol i just googled some things, also i suck at maths so any explanation here is just me googling shit. no beta reader. hope you enjoy!
Summary: You wake up with a pounding headache, the worst hangover you ever had. You don't even remember how you managed to get to your dorm, until you see a small note on your bedside table, signed by... Michael Gavey.
Words: 4490
Warnings: +18 (minors do not interact!), female reader, no use of y/n, not specific physical description, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, fingering, loss of virginity, masturbation (and more to come in the second part)
You wake up on a Saturday morning with a pounding headache, your mascara all smudged under your eyes. The sunlight coming from the blinds makes you squint your eyes. You bring a hand to your forehead, sighing. This was the worst hangover you had in a while.
The sound of the door opening and a sudden gasp make you groan and close your eyes shut.
“Oh, here you are!” a particularly high-pitched voice says, making your headache even worse.
“Fuck, Leigh” your voice comes out as croaky and hoarse. “Lower your voice” you ask as she mutters a ‘sorry’ and closes the door carefully. You manage to sit, your back resting against the headboard as Leigh approaches you.
“Next time, be sure to drink water as well. Too many tequilas and shots do this to you” it’s like she’s scolding you, which is fair because she’s two years older than you, she’s like your sister sometimes.
You rub your eyes, smearing more mascara and making you look like a raccoon. On the corner of your eye you notice a glass full of water and some aspirins. You frown.
“How did you get that so fast?” It’s Leigh’s turn to look at you completely puzzled. You point to the glass next to you.
“Uhm, it wasn’t me” she chuckles as you take some aspirins in your hand and drown them with water. Your brows lift in surprise and confusion, your eyes glancing towards a small note next to your lamp. You grab it and read the message in a rushed handwriting.
“What the fuck was Michael Gavey doing in my dorm?” you nearly scream with wide eyes as Leigh takes the note from your hands to read it. She throws her head back and cackles.
“Michael Gavey brought you here last night. You don’t remember?” she looks at your dumbfounded expression trying not to laugh again. “Jeez, you were so drunk you don’t even remember what happened…” she mutters and sits cross-legged in front of you. “Last night at the pub, we were chatting with Felix and his group and you wanted to go to the loo, so you left but on your way you bumped into Bradley and Sam” she wiggles her brows and you scoff.
You dated Bradley during half the second term, then you dated his friend Sam for a brief period of two weeks. You found them too boring, so you rejected any other advance on their part ever since.
“Anyways, I couldn’t see much but I think something nasty happened, because on the other side of the pub was Michael fucking Gavey looking at you. Babe, he was fuming” her lips curve into a devilish smile. “He strode towards you and grabbed your arm, telling them to fuck off. Which they surprisingly did, which is odd because, well… you know… he’s a scrawny awkward nerd and Bradley and Sam are pretty much tall like beasts” she shakes her head while you’re still confused, trying so hard to remember what happened.
“Why the hell would he even approach me? He hates me” your brows lift and she places a manicured hand on your knee.
“Hmm, maybe they were annoying you. It seems Michael’s your knight in shining armour. I think it was hot, wet my panties a little bit not gonna lie” she sighs and fans her face with her hand, pretending to melt.
Now it is your turn to cackle. “You’ve always said you pictured him like one of those guys who compulsively jerks off to hentai every night in the dark of his room.” You look at her with a knowing look, pouting your lips.
Leigh shrugs. “Maybe I changed my mind. Maybe I like nerds like Michael Gavey now. He looked really good with that shirt” she narrows her eyes and twirls her hair, making you laugh again. She grins and looks at you. “You should talk to him. Ask him what happened, and then you might want to thank him…” she wiggles her eyebrows and you roll your eyes, she slaps your shoulder in response. “You know you want to! I mean, I’ve seen the way you look at him sometimes, and a guy like him will never resist a bomb like you. Who knows, maybe he’s jerking off to the thought of you…”
“Leigh!” you slap her leg and she jumps. You shake your head. “Babe, she hates me. I know it. I’m pretty sure he’s part of that group of guys that slut-shames me in the hallways” Leigh presses her lips, knowing you might be right. Might.
Still, you want to know what really happened last night, so you sigh and get out of bed, Leigh following your movements in the dimly lit dorm. “I’ll take a shower and think about how to talk to him, ask him what happened” your friend gets on her stomach on your bed, her feet up and her chin resting on her palm as you grab your towel, feeling the headache go away, but your empty stomach grumbled.
“Mind if I take a nap here? Kev fucked my brains out last night and I don’t feel like going to my dorm” she sounded quite tired, and you hum in response. She groans as she gets into the covers and you enter the small bathroom, closing the door slowly and undressing to get into the warm shower, letting the water fall all over your body. You close your eyes enjoying the feeling, and you start wondering how to talk to Michael.
You never saw him anywhere else rather than in the great hall of college, as he spent most of the time in the library. Besides, you know deep in your gut he hates you. Every time you walk into the library, he leaves, avoiding looking at you.
One time, you tried to talk to him. It was the beginning of the academic year, you were dating a history student named David, and you saw Michael all alone during lunch, too focused on his books and his crunchies. Feeling bad for him, you grabbed your purse and walked towards him, a smile across your face.
“Hi there” you introduce yourself, extending your hand. He looks up from his book, looking at you with a frown, sneering. He looks at your hand and then back at you. Awkwardly, you move that hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, pressing your lips. “What’s your name?”
“Michael Gavey” he says sharply, clearly annoyed. You stand there, feeling heat creeping on your cheeks as he turns his attention to his book. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out so you leave, returning to your friends.
That was the first and last time you tried to talk to him, but he refused. You didn’t know why, but you assumed it was because of your reputation there. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying your sexuality, and it’s definitely not your fault that most of the guys are horny douchebags who aren’t capable of being in a serious relationship. Plus, they’re too shallow for you, and you get bored easily. You don’t want them to get too attached.
But Michael’s different. He avoids interacting with people when he can, he doesn’t do parties -maybe you saw him once or twice at Felix’s-, he’s very vocal about what he thinks about popular people: he hates them. Vapid cunts, you heard him mutter once. And that’s why you feel attracted to him.
He’s nothing like Bradley, Sam or David. Or Luke. Or Peter. Or even Felix.
You finish showering and drying off your hair, Leigh sleeping soundly on your bed. You are careful not to make any loud noise as you try to dress. You put on a lace tank top and a pair of jeans, your favourite flats and the note he left on your bedside table and head out to the library, hoping to find him.
Bingo. You see Michael sitting on the other side of the library, fully immersed in his studies. Your flats make the slightest of noises against the floor, you feel your heartbeat get faster as you approach him. You pull the chair in front of him and take a seat, leaning over as you smile and say hi. Michael looks up and nearly chokes at the sight of your tits nearly spilling from your top.
“H-hi” he simply responds in a low voice. He clears his throat and frowns. “Why are you here?”
Ouch. Rude. “I was looking for you.”
“You were?” Silly old me?
“Yes, dummy. I woke up with the worst hangover of my life, and I found this on my bedside table.” You hand him the small note he left. Drink these with water. Hope you feel better. Michael Gavey. He presses his lips and nods, acknowledging the note he wrote.
“You were pretty hammered” he chuckles and you smile, showing your perfect teeth.
“I was. I can’t remember a thing, Michael. Would you help me to fill in the blanks?” you ask sweetly and bat your lashes at him, making him squirm. Michael Gavey squirms.
“Sure, uhm…” he puts the book aside, scratches the back of his neck and clears his throat once again. “You were heading towards the toilet at the pub and I heard you laugh when you bumped into those assholes” he sneers, remembering the events from last night. “The blonde one landed a hand on your ass and you tried to pull him away. You were clearly uncomfortable so just told them to fuck off” he shrugs.
Your heart flutters, he sounds so honest and worried about you. You extend your hand to place it on top of his, and he meets your eyes. “Thank you.”
He nods, looking at your hands. He slithers them away, making you frown. “No worries. Next time though, try not to throw up on my sneakers” your eyes widen in surprise and embarrassment.
“Oh fuck, did I do that?” He nods trying to hide a smirk. You cover your face with your hands, mortified. “Shit, I’m so sorry!” You move your hands away from your flushed face when you hear him chuckle.
“You had too many drinks, you could barely stand on your feet” he reassures you, his sudden kindness taking you by surprise. “I left you in your dorm and just when I was about to leave, you said you felt like throwing up, but you didn’t make it to the toilet and threw up on my sneakers. I washed the stain off the floor and helped you get off your shoes to lie down. I see you took the aspirins I left there.”
“I did, thank you again.” You don’t know how to thank him properly, so you start thinking. You take a moment to study his features. The glasses he wears frame his face and hide his blue eyes. His aquiline nose —oh God, his aquiline nose—, the pronounced cupid bow of his lips, his sharp jaw. You feel the need to run your fingers through his tousled blonde hair. You press your legs together. “How can I thank you?”
“No, it’s ok. No worries” he makes a gesture with his hands and sighs. “Uhm, I really need to study, so…” he trails off, subtly telling you to leave. You blink and nod, standing up.
“Sure, ok, I’ll leave you to it…” you accommodate the chair back and wave at him. “See you around?” He just nods and opens his book again. As you leave, a great idea crosses your mind, but before you open your mouth a pack of students enter the library. You curse internally and leave.
9:15 AM.
You fix your hair in the mirror, brushing it before going to the calculus lecture. You’re not studying anything related to maths actually, you’re a psychology student and according to the university program you can take a course to complement your studies, so you chose that one.
As you walk down the corridors, you see Michael carrying his notebook and entering the classroom. Your lips curve into a smile and speed up the pace to catch up.
“Michael!” You call him as you finally reach him. You swear you hear him mutter something under his breath, and you follow him as more students fill the room. He smiles at you with pressed lips, greeting you back.
“I didn’t know you were taking calculus” he sounds genuinely surprised. You decide to take a seat next to him, placing your bag on the floor as he opens his notebook and clicks his pen, everything ready to take notes.
“Yeah, I have to take an optional course to complement my studies” you lean down, giving him a clear view of your cleavage as you reach for your notebook and pencil case. You hear him gulp.
“How… dedicated” he replies, to which you smile, taking the end of your pencil in between your teeth.
Michael looks away, his eyes focusing on the board as the professor greets everyone and starts writing.
Half an hour later the lecture comes to an end. You sigh in relief, your brain has melted from all the numbers and formulas the professor explained. Honestly, you paid more attention to Michael’s large hands and long fingers gripping his pen as he took notes, thinking about how they would feel on your body.
You watch as he stands up quickly, nodding at you as a way to say goodbye. “See ya”
“Michael, wait!” You quickly put your notebook into your bag and rush after him. “Shall we study together? We can do the assignment due by next week together” you offer him your signature smile, tilting your head and thinking he wouldn’t say no. Most guys melted when you smiled at them like that.
However, your confidence vanishes when he grimaces and scratches his neck. “Actually, I… I don’t study in groups. Doesn’t work for me”.
Why are you surprised, it is obvious. You always see him alone in the libraries. You curse yourself internally. “Oh, well…”
“I’m sure you will do great though, you seem like a clever girl” the praise coming from his lips make you silently gasp.
“Yeah, you’re right…” Just as he’s about to leave, an idea pops in your head. “Actually, Michael… I’m struggling with this subject.”
Lies. You aren’t a genius like he is, but you can manage. You don’t like maths but you don’t suck at it either, you do good. Enough to pass the subject.
“I was wondering if you could help me” you do your best to sound helpless, knitting your brows and all. “Everyone says you’re a fucking genius, please, Mike?” He swallows hard at the way you practically beg him for help, placing a hand on his elbow.
He doubts only for a few seconds before agreeing. “Ok. I will help you” he yelps as you wrap your arms around him, your tits flash against his chest making him dizzy.
“Oh, thank you Michael!” you pull back, teeth biting down on your lower lip as you smile. “Can we start today? I would tell you to come to my dorm, but my friend Leigh is currently staying there because they found a rat clogging her toilet.” Another big lie.
Michael just nods, he doesn’t really have too many options. “Fine. Uhm, my dorm is on the second floor, 219. I’ll be there at 4pm, bring your notes and a calculator.”
You playfully salute him, like a good soldier. “Yes, Sir” he chuckles softly and shakes his head, turning on his heels to leave.
You can barely contain your joy as you walk towards your dorm, almost singing.
3:40 PM.
You try on different outfits, grunting when you look at yourself in the mirror for the fifth time. You don’t like any fit, and you continue rummaging through the pile of clothes on your bed. You lift your brow as a red fabric catches your attention. It’s the mini skirt Leigh gave you a few weeks ago. You quickly put it on and look at yourself in the mirror once again, happy with the result. Your white baby tee with ‘cherry bomb’ in red letters written on it makes the perfect match.
You grab your notebook and head towards his dorm.
“Coming” you hear Michael’s voice behind the door. He will surely be coming today. He opens the door, breath hitching at the sight of you in that top, your nipples peeking through the fabric. Suddenly he feels his pants are too tight. “Please, come in” he gives you enough space to enter his dorm, which you do. As you walk past him the smell of your perfume fills his nostrils. Fuck.
You smile at him and as he closes the door behind you, you look around the room. It was just what you expected. Everything was perfectly neat, books organised in two bookshelves, more textbooks and notes scattered over the white desk.
“Take a seat over there” he points at the bed, and you gladly do it. “Do you want something to drink? Eat? I have some crunchies.”
“No, thanks, I’m fine.” You flash him a sweet smile as you open your bag, looking for your notes and your pen.
Michael sits next to you, keeping a safe distance of course, but close enough you can hear his hard breathing. “Ok, we can start with the basics, and then I’ll help you with the exercises, sounds good?” When you nod, he continues. “Cool. So, think of limits as a way to understand what happens to a function as it gets closer and closer to a certain point without actually reaching it.”
“That sounds paradoxical” you cut him off, and he suppresses a smile.
“It does seem counterintuitive, but it's about observing the behaviour of a function as it gets infinitely close to a specific value.” He continues explaining, and you pay attention to every word that comes out from those beautiful lips.
Michael’s brows lift in surprise as you finish another task quickly, and he’s even more surprised when he checks it and there are no mistakes. He didn’t find any mistakes in the previous 5 exercises he provided for you either. You just look up at him, waiting for his correction.
He looks back at you. “You did perfectly well. Again.” You squeak and he takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t get it. Most students get the first ten exercises horribly wrong, but you solved all of them perfectly. H-how?”
You lean back on your arms, legs crossed. You tilt your head. “Maybe I’m just a quick study, learning from the best” you start moving your feet up his leg, slowly and carefully. He shakes his head as he puts on his glasses again, sighing.
“No. You’re just wasting my time.”
“What?” It’s actually the truth. You are wasting his time, you weren’t having any issues with the subject, you just wanted an excuse. “Ok, yes, I admit it” you lift your hands in defeat, and he curses.
“Why the fuck would you ask for my help if you don’t need it? Fuck, I have many important things to do and you’re here bothering me, leave please.”
You get on your feet quickly as he’s about to turn the doorknob, and you stop him. “No, Michael, please hear me out.” He glares at you, nostrils flaring as you take his wrist and guide him towards his bed, making him sit on the edge. He looks confused, you sit next to him, your knees touching.
“Look, I just wanted to thank you for what you did the other day. For being my knight in shining armour.” He licks his lips and opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off by placing your index finger there. “No, listen. I know it’s not a big deal for you, but it is for me. Michael, I want you.”
Michael’s eyes widen at your confession. “W-what?”
There’s no way you wanted him. You, out of all the people on the campus. Slowly, you lean in, wetting your lips with your tongue to press them against his mouth. You give him a soft peck before truly kissing him, your hands finding their way towards his tense shoulders. He doesn’t respond yet, but when you bite gently on his lower lip he whimpers, he fucking whimpers, and moves his lips against yours, trying to follow your rhythm. Your lips taste like cherries, and he loves it.
Kissing him feels good. You tilt your head to the side to deepen the kiss, feeling how he squirmed under your touch and kisses. You wonder how he would react when you have his cock in your mouth.
You slither your tongue inside his mouth, exploring it as he gets more excited, his hands finally touching you, placed on either side of your waist.
You pull back to catch your breath and he chases your lips. You giggle. “Easy there, lover boy. We have plenty of time.”
“Fuck, I- I… I’ve never done this” you frown, and he sighs. “I’ve never kissed anyone. Ever. That felt really good” he chuckles, and you smile.
“You liked it?” He just nods, and you start placing open mouthed kisses across his jaw, down his neck until you reach his ear and whisper. “Wait until I put my mouth on your cock.”
Michael gulps. “W-what?”
“You think I came here just because I wanted to kiss you? No, Michael” his eyes follow your movements, how you rise from his bed to kneel in front of him, hands undoing his jeans, looking for any sign of discomfort. When you find none, you continue, pulling down his jeans and boxers down to his knees, freeing his cock. “I came here because I really, really want this” you purr and lower your gaze to his weeping length, your cunt clenching around nothing already.
Michael’s big. At least, bigger than the ones you had. Curved upward with a protruding vein on the side. You bite your lip as you start stroking him, Michael closes his eyes shut and whimpers. You never heard someone whimper so beautifully. You study every reaction, every microexpression as you continue stroking him at a tantalising pace, as if you are torturing him.
“P-please…” he begs through bated breath, moving his hips as he tries to get some friction, anything.
“You look so beautiful begging, Michael. You’re making me so wet, baby” he cries out your name again, and you smirk. “Michael, open your eyes” you demand, and he does so, breath catching in his throat as he finds you there on your knees, looking at him like you were his predator. It was so fucking sexy.
“I want you to watch as I suck your cock. And you better last more than five minutes. I want you to enjoy it” he nods and swallows hard as you lick your lips before taking him into your mouth.
“Oh fuck” he curses, gripping the sheets beneath him until his knuckles are white. You lick the vein, going from the base upwards, and you hear him sigh. You lick him like you lick a lollipop, and then you take him into your mouth again, hollowing your cheeks as your right hand works its way around the base. He’s so big he doesn’t fit completely into your mouth.
You hum around his cock, your eyes closing as you bob your head up and down his shaft, making Michael squirm. He doesn’t know what to do, he just keeps looking at you, unable to tear his gaze from you.
The soft moans that escape his lips, the way he whimpers your name and bucks his hips ever so slightly, careful not to hurt you but eager to get more are enough to make you wet. Hell, you are sure your panties are soaked by now, leaking through the fabric.
His eyes widen as he catches the movement of your left hand that was on his inner thigh going in between your legs, under the skirt. Were you touching yourself?
You bob your head faster and moan around his cock as you tease your wet folds with your fingers. You push two fingers inside your pussy, the room filling with the most obscene sounds you ever heard.
“Are you… are you touching y-yourself?” asks Michael in a strangled moan, watching you intently. You release his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, your saliva coating it.
“Of course I am, Michael. I’m fucking wet. Here” you take off your fingers from your pussy to grab his hand, and guide it towards your entrance.
Michael almost passes out. You are, in fact, dripping wet on his fingers. You let him touch you for a moment, grinding your hips against his hand, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit so deliciously. “S-shit, Michael” you bite your lip and he grins, happy to earn that reaction from you. You feel him twitch in your hand, the tell tale sign that he was very close to cumming. You remove your hands from your cunt and he frowns.
“Did-did I hurt you?”
“No, baby. But tonight’s about you, ok? I can teach you how to eat my pussy later, yeah? Right now, I want you to cum in my mouth. Whenever you’re ready” you wink at him and he chokes on a sob as you take him into your mouth again, slowly until you feel him in the back of your throat. Some tears well up in your eyes, you moan around his cock and that pushes him.
He bucks his hips and shoots his load deep down your throat, you look at him through your lashes and see how hard he grips the sheets, his chest heaving as he moans your name. He stays still for a while, panting as you swallow his salty cum, wiping the corner of your mouth with your hand.
“Holy fuck” he mutters, still trying to catch his breath. You get on your feet and plant a kiss on his lips, letting him taste himself on your tongue. “Now… shall I… well, uhm” he’s unsure about what to ask.
“Eat my pussy?” you finish for him and he nods eagerly, you giggle. “Another day, baby.”
“But you… you were touching yourself and didn’t get to cum, right? I have to return the favour—”
“No, Michael. Don’t worry” you reassure him with a kind smile, stroking his cheek. You lean in to kiss him again, and then, you whisper in his ear: “I’ll just finger myself until I cum in my bedroom to the thought of you.”
You smirk as he looks at you with his jaw dropped. You blow him a kiss, open the door and leave.
let me know what you think! and if you'd like to be tagged as well 🫶🏻
#michael gavey#michael gavey x reader#michael gavey smut#michael gavey x you#michael gavey fic#saltburn fanfiction#saltburn#saltburn movie#ewanverse#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell smut#ewan mitchell fic#mydemimondewrites
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Break up
katsuki bakugo x reader
Bakugos been distant which ends up in you two breaking up, learning to live without him was difficult
Warning: angst, break ups, arguments, mineta. (This is a mineta hate page🫶🫶) probably badly written argument but it’s more for practice
Bakugo and you used to be probably the cutest couple 1A had ever seen. He would carry your bags, help with your homework, hell he had even figured out how to threaten izuku into switching seats with you so you two could pass notes in class. You were practically best friends with Mina because of bakugo, you had a group of boys (bakugo, kirishima, Denki and sero) who would come to the rescue if you or Mina were afraid or uncomfortable of someone, usually mineta. Everything was great! Until it wasn’t
Bakugo began to grow distant, his usual warm and loving behavior towards you shifting to something colder and more indifferent. It was like a switch had been flipped, and the boy who once made you feel like the center of his world now treated you like an acquaintance, or even less. The cuddles in your dorm, which had been a nightly comfort, stopped altogether. He no longer accepted the lunches you made with such care, brushing off your efforts with a curt nod or a distracted "thanks."
He didn't wait for you or Mina when the lunch bell rang, a small but significant ritual that had always been a highlight of your day. Instead, he would storm off on his own, his mind clearly occupied by something that didn't include you. It was like he was building walls around himself, shutting you out bit by bit. The boys, Kirishima and Denki, noticed the change immediately. Their concerned glances back at you two during lunch were hard to miss. They would wave, trying to get you and Mina to join them like usual, but you felt too disheartened to follow.
Mina, always perceptive, linked her arm with yours and gave you a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay," she whispered, her eyes full of empathy. "We'll just hang out together today."
You forced a smile, grateful for her support but unable to shake the growing ache in your heart. The cafeteria felt larger and lonelier without Bakugo by your side, and the absence of his presence was like a constant, gnawing void. Mina did her best to keep the conversation light and engaging, but even her bubbly personality couldn't fully lift the cloud that hung over you.
You sighed heavily and walked into the common room, feeling the weight of a particularly rough day of training pressing down on you. It seemed like the past few weeks had been nothing but a series of bad days strung together. Inside, you found Sero hanging from the ceiling with his tape, while Denki and Kirishima were busy playing Uno. Sero, suspended above like a makeshift Spider-Man, noticed your dejected expression immediately.
"What's up with you?" he asked, concern evident in his voice. Kirishima and Denki looked up from their game to see you standing there, looking defeated.
"Nothing… just a bad day," you sighed, moving toward the kitchen area in search of some instant noodles. The prospect of a quick, comforting meal was the only thing that seemed remotely appealing.
"You've had a bad day for the past two weeks," Denki remarked, leaning back on the couch and taking a sip of his Coca-Cola. His casual observation stung because it was true; your mood had been in a steady decline for a while now.
"I know… it sucks," you grumbled in response, frustration lacing your voice as you rummaged through the cabinets.
"Is it because of Bakugo? You should talk to him!" Denki suggested, trying to offer some well-meaning advice about your relationship.
Kirishima, always quick to tease his friends, pointed out, "To be honest, man, I don't think anyone in this whole dorm wants your relationship advice when you can't even pull that green-haired chick from 1B." His comment earned a fake offended gasp from Denki, momentarily lightening the mood in the room.
The sounds of their playful banter and the ease with which they interacted only amplified your frustration. Their happiness and carefree attitudes were a stark contrast to the turmoil you were feeling inside. It wasn’t fair – why did everything have to be so hard for you?
As you prepared your noodles, you couldn't help but let your mind wander back to Bakugo. You missed him more than words could express. His absence from your daily life was like a constant, gnawing ache. You longed for the days when he would greet you with a smirk and a teasing remark, when his presence alone could make you feel like everything would be okay.
You slumped down at the kitchen counter, stirring your noodles absentmindedly. The warmth of the broth did little to soothe the cold emptiness that had settled in your chest. Sero, always perceptive, swung down from the ceiling and landed gracefully beside you.
"Hey, if you ever need to talk, we're here for you," he said softly, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder.
Kirishima and Denki echoed his sentiment, their earlier teasing replaced by genuine concern. "Yeah, we're your friends. We care about you," Kirishima added with a supportive smile.
Denki nodded, his usual playful demeanor subdued by the seriousness of the moment. "We're here for you, no matter what."
Their words were a small comfort, but the underlying issue remained – you missed Bakugo. You missed his rough edges and his rare moments of softness, the way he could make you feel safe and cherished with just a look. The rift between you seemed to grow wider with each passing day, and you couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness.
As you finished your meal, you realized that no amount of comforting words from your friends could fill the void left by Bakugo's absence. You needed to figure out a way to reach him, to bridge the gap that had formed between you. For now, all you could do was hold on to the hope that things would get better, and lean on your friends for support as you navigated this difficult time.
“nah, it’s good advice.. I’ll talk to him. If you hear yelling from us just… I dunno come check on us, or get Mina.”
So you made your way towards the elevator and down the hall, clicking the button that had the number four in big bold writing. Bakugo and you both lived on the 4th floor of heights alliance. (I’m being fr when I say I googled this) and walked to his dorm, knocking lightly on the wooden door “katsuki? Hun?” You called out “yeah? What?” He yelled back at you, sounding annoyed. “Can we talk?” You asked softly, trying to simply be nice to him “we talk everyday!” He just sounded so annoyed. “No like.” You sighed “can we talk.” You said it in a different way so he got the idea. Bakugo huffed on the other side of the door “yeah. Sure. Whatever.” He grumbled out, unlocking his door and letting you inside.
The blonde flopped back onto his bed and rolled onto his back to look at you. “What’s up?” he asked, the once loving look in his eyes now replaced by a cold indifference.
“What’s going on, Bakugo? You keep distancing yourself from me,” you said, frustration bubbling up. “I haven’t seen you actually try to talk to me in two weeks!”
Bakugo rolled his eyes. “Nothing’s going on, I’m just tired. Still love you,” he mumbled, but you couldn't tell if he was lying.
“When you’re tired, you used to cuddle me and sleep. Now you ignore me completely—”
“I said I'm just tired, damn it!” Bakugo suddenly yelled, causing you to wince.
“What the hell, Bakugo! I’ve been nice about it, trying to understand!” you retorted, your voice rising in pitch.
“I’m just… I don’t have time for you, okay?” he snapped, his tone as harsh as ever.
“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, feeling a sinking sensation in your chest.
“I don’t have time for you! You distract me from being the number one hero. You're nothing but a distraction!” he screamed, picking up a small stress toy that you got him and throwing it at you, narrowly missing your head.
“What the hell, Bakugo! Who the fuck throws something at their partner?”
“Me! Because you’re being annoying! I’ll talk to you like I did before when you stop being such a distraction!” He groaned and tried to turn away from you.
“Will you? Will you really? I don’t trust you anymore!” you yelled, your voice cracking with emotion.
“If you don’t trust me, let’s break up then!” He stomped over and got right in your face, his eyes blazing with anger.
“FINE!” you shouted back, but you didn’t move.
“FINE!” he roared, his breath hot against your face.
“Why are you doing this?” you demanded, tears welling up in your eyes. “I’ve done nothing but support you, and this is how you treat me?”
“You don’t get it!” he yelled. “Every time I look at you, I see all the things I’m failing at. I can’t afford distractions, not now, not ever!”
“So I’m just a failure to you? Is that it?” you shot back, your voice trembling with hurt and rage. “I thought I was someone you cared about, someone you loved.”
“I did love you! I do! But I can’t do this right now,” he shouted, his voice breaking slightly, betraying a hint of vulnerability.
“Love isn’t something you can just turn off, Bakugo! You don’t get to use me and then throw me away when it’s convenient for you!” you screamed, tears streaming down your face.
“I’m not using you!” he yelled back, but there was a crack in his voice. “I’m trying to protect you, damn it! From me, from this life, from everything!”
“By pushing me away? By treating me like I’m nothing?” you cried. “That’s not protection, Bakugo, that’s cruelty.”
“I’m doing what I have to do to be number one!” he roared, his fists clenching at his sides.
“At what cost, Bakugo? At the cost of everyone who cares about you?” you asked, your voice softening with sadness. “If you keep this up, you’ll end up alone.”
“Maybe that’s what I need to be!” he shouted, but there was a hollow ring to his words.
“Fine. If that’s what you want, then I’m gone,” you said quietly, turning towards the door.
Bakugo stood there, breathing heavily, watching as you walked out of his dorm. “Don’t come back!” he yelled after you, but the words felt empty.
You slammed the door behind you, the sound echoing in the hallway as you walked away, each step feeling like it was ripping your heart out of your chest.
as you went down the hall towards the elevator, you saw Mina try to rush down the hall. She also lived on the 4th floor and she heard everything “*name!*” she called out “what happened? One minute the 4th floor is peaceful then I’m hearing you two yelling! I think they even called mr aizawa!” She sounded panicked “we broke up.” You muttered “huh?” The pink haired girl asked “we broke up Mina, me and bakugo. We broke up.” You reiterated to her “you’re kidding…” she looked like she felt nothing but pity for you, pulling you into a tight hug. You sobbed into her shoulder as the reality sunk in…
the next day, aizawa pulled both you and bakugo aside.
“I understand you two have broken up, however I need you two to be civil. I can’t have you two yelling at each other during class time or during school hours. Keep your relationship problems out of school” the blunt man said in his usual gloomy voice “and with that, I’m changing your seating plan so you two don’t see each other.” He handed you two a piece of paper with the same exact seating plan, except you and bakugo were on opposite sides of the room.
“Tch.. whatever” bakugo grumbled and walked Into class, you stared down at the piece of white paper “yeah this is good” you nodded and also walked into the classroom, mr aizawa following behind you.
the tension in class was sickening, everyone had heard of your breakup and nobody wanted to say anything that would set you two off
minetas ugly ass turned around and faced bakugo with a grin “I heard of your breath up, females am I right?” “Shut the fuck up you purple bitch.”
#bakugo katsuki#mha#bnha#my hero academia#katsuki bakugou#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo mha#bakugo#mha bakugou#bnha bakugou#bakugou x reader#Katsuki bakugo angst#Katsuki bakugo one shot#Angst#mha angst#bnha angst#Angsty fanfic#Fanfic
845 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wonwoo× Fem. Reader | Oneshot
Summary: You answering a question,"What if your bf cheats on you." But you know your man too well.
Genre:Fluffffffffffff,humour
You're sitting with all of your/wonwoo's friends and their partners. It's just casual hangout night. Where you guys get together and drink and play games and have fun. Someone in the group will organize this hangout night by taking turns each time. This time it was seungkwan, so you were all gathered at his house. Spread on couches, mats on the floor,chairs everywhere.
And chan came up with this weird game where they'll ask everyone a hypothetical question and ask them what will they do in this situation.
So it's your turn and seungkwan throws you a question, "So y/n my question is ..suppose you found out that your boyfriend is cheating on you, what will you do ? "
And it got different reactions from everyone in a second like some were gasping, some were curious and wonwoo glaring at seungkwan with a "Heyy watch what you're saying, I'm her boyfriend." He was offended cause no way in hell and heaven he'll ever cheat on you.
On the other hand you let out a funny laugh saying, "Nah my boyfriend pulled me that's a miracle in itself, that's the last concern I'll ever have-" seungkwan cuts you off while wonwoo huffs but shakes his head with a smile cause even he knows that's true. Mingyu's laugh loud at the background "But it's a hypothetical question just answer it..I want a proper answer" seungkwan whines.
" Okay fineee!.." You make a face like you're thinking and then you say "honestly if I ever caught him cheating or even talking to another girl ..my honest reaction would be ..waittt.. you know how to do that??"
And everyone just bursts out laughing cause they know their friend that guy is shy af and so introverted.
Wonwoo who's sitting beside you his arm on your shoulder. "I don't know if I should be glad or should be offended but thank you babe." Wonwoo says to you glaring at you. You laugh throwing your head back and then take his face in one of your hand, "Sorry babe but I wasn't making fun of you, you're too lazy and unbothered to go and like make another girlfriend or something ..I know you."
He chuckles,"Well fine then y'all can laugh. I'm very happy and content with my beautiful girlfriend and I'm glad that she knows I won't ever do that to her." He says giving you sheepish smile and then kissing your hand.
Everyone in the background cooing at you two.. "Awwww" "You guys are so cute"
You blush at that and when they move to the next question/next person. The focus is not on you anymore.
So, you turn in wonwoo's arms, hugging him, burying your face in his shoulder. He instantly wraps you in his embrace gently. The smile blooming on his face "I love you" you whisper near his ear. His smile widens "I love you too baby" He whispers back kissing your shoulder.
[ Masterlist ]
.
.
a/n : random idea popped in and I instantly wrote it down 😂😂 hope you like it.
#seventeen x reader#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo fluff#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo#jeon wonwoo × reader#seventeen#seventeenimagines#seventeen fanfic#fanfic#svt x reader#svt imagines#svt fluff#seungkwan#lee chan
421 notes
·
View notes